


Angel of the Morning

by katvara



Series: Digimon V! [7]
Category: Digimon - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Attempted Murder, Child Abuse, Children of Characters, Coming Out, Doctors & Physicians, Domestic Violence, Drinking, F/M, Heartbreak, Hospitalization, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Incest, Internalized Homophobia, Love Hotels, Love Letters, M/M, Mental Instability, Mentions of Cancer, Moving Out, Murder, One Night Stands, One-Sided Relationship, Original Character Death(s), Police, Pre-Canon, Pregnancy, Racism, Reunions, Second Chances, Stalking, Suicidal Thoughts, Toxic Relationship, Unhealthy Relationships, Wakes & Funerals, Weddings, graduation party, you can tell I did my hospital research by watching ER
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-01-04 17:59:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 63,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12173895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katvara/pseuds/katvara
Summary: Joe's life is just a series of mistakes, one after another, that all began the night he fell in love with a certain troubled blonde.





	1. Chapter 1

_There'll be no strings to bind your hands_

_Not if my love can't bind your heart_

* * *

1999

It seemed that no matter what Joe did, he always found a way to fail at it. Even something as simple as _talking_ was able to escape him at this moment.

Matt was hugging TK tightly, Patamon and Tsunomon making sure their Tamers were safe from harm. Tai was congratulation Agumon for chasing off DemiDevimon, and Joe...

Joe was arguing with himself.

_'Run up to him,'_ his heart told his feet. _'Go hug Matt, tell him you love him and you're glad he's safe.'_

_'We can't,'_ his feet said back. _'We promised we wouldn't.'_

_'That shouldn't matter,'_ his hands said. _'We love to touch him.'_

_'Everything matters,'_ his mind said. _'Everything I've done in these past three months, I did for him. I can't break that trust I built with him.'_

Gomamon could sense the trouble rolling throughout Joe's whole body, the feeling like that of being in a barrel at sea during a storm. The seal wondered if it had anything to do with all the stuff the two humans had done almost every night in the boiler room behind the restaurant.

Matt looked up, blue eyes sparkling with relief. He blushed and smiled, a small expression meant only for the blue haired boy before him. "Joe, I..."

_'This is it,'_ Joe thought. _'I promised I wouldn't make the first move, that I would_ never _push you to do anything you didn't want to do. So, what will you say? In front of Tai? In front of TK?'_

"Joe you saved my brother and, well..." Matt turned away, looking to his feet and Joe felt his heart sink. "You're a wonderful friend."

_'Friend?!'_ Joe bit his tongue, forcing himself to smile even as his thoughts raced. _'You made love to me just last night! I know secrets of yours you've kept from_ TK _his whole life! And you only call me "friend"?!'_

"Of course," the words finally rolled off Joe's tongue with a warmth he didn't feel. "I'd do anything for my friends."

"All right, you guys," Tai laughed as he approached. He couldn't feel the tension, sense the unease. All he could see were his friends that had aged months in his absence of only a few hours at home. "We need to get going – we have to find Izzy and the girls!"

Without a second thought, they all fell in line behind Tai, like they always had. Except... TK could still feel the hurt in his heart from being abandoned and he pulled away from his brother subconsciously. Matt, now much more secure in his feelings for his brother and knowing the younger blonde was safe once more, turned his thoughts inward, staying silent the whole hike. Joe fought himself desperately, trying not to rip out his hair and scream at the blonde, demand that they admit to the whole Digital World what they had done and how they both felt – how Joe _thought_ they both felt. He wanted to take Matt aside, talk to him just like they used to, but any attempt to get close to the other boy drove him away, drove him to fuss over his brother or Tsunomon or fight with Tai.

Distractions. That was what Matt was seeking. Anything to keep his own thoughts from racing beyond the present.

When they came to the split in the path, Joe tried not to let the hurt show as Matt instantly grabbed TK by the hand. He tried not to be jealous as Matt announced that he and his brother would go one way, and could Joe kindly go with Tai, far away from him?

But that was ok, Joe told himself. As he and Tai tried to convince Mimi to join with the group again, Joe found himself repeating his own mantra.

If he had forced the relationship, he would have only screwed it up. He would have found a way to fail at such a simple thing as love. Just like he failed at everything else.

By the time they found Sora, Joe had himself convinced that this was for the best. This dull, lonely ache in his chest was the price he had to pay for being a screw up. And that it didn't hurt like hell to see Matt so close, and yet be so far away from him.

* * *

Joe was determined, now. He'd discussed it with Gomamon (well, he'd spoken outloud and Gomamon had nodded like he understood) and he knew that if he didn't do it now, he might never get the chance. Hell, he'd survived being deleted and reconfigured, and if that wasn't a second chance he didn't know _what_ was.

He reached out for his partner, pulling the seal from Dragon Eye Lake and holding him close. Gomamon dripped cold water all down his front, and he wiggled his ears contentedly. Joe turned to face his friends and swallowed harshly. He tried to keep from looking at Matt as he called tentatively, "Hey, guys, we've been through so much together, and I think it's time I told you all something..."

"What is it, Joe?" Tai asked with a smile. The sun was warm on his face and he fell back into the grass with a stretch. "You gonna tell us it's really _you_ who was behind all this evil crap and now we have to kick your ass?"

Joe blushed furiously as all the other Children laughed. Biting his lip and holding his partner tightly, he opened his mouth and let the words come forth, "No, I, uh... I wanted to tell you that I, I'm..." His eyes flicked to Matt who was busy looking at Gabumon. "Gay."

Noone spoke. Gomamon squeaked as Joe squeezed him tightly. This was it. He'd finally screwed up everything. Just when everyone had finally relaxed, _he'd_ been the one to screw it all up. Once more, he'd been the one to destroy everything. Just like his own family...

"Is that all, or is there more?" Mimi finally asked, laughter in her voice.

"What?" Gomamon nibbled at Joe's wrist until the blue haired boy dropped him. "What do you mean?!"

Mimi was giggling, a knowing light in her eyes. After all that time she'd spent alone with him searching for herself, for the others, she understood. "You can't expect us to be shocked. I mean, _really,_ Joe?"

Joe looked to Gomamon at his feet. If Mimi had known about him, did she know about Matt? God, what if he had screwed up his lovely blonde's life as well? He didn't even realize he'd spoken outloud as he mumbled, "I thought I'd hid it well..."

But his little seal was laughing, and he could feel warmth bubbling through the soul-bond they shared. "I kept telling you, they aren't going to care."

Joe finally looked up. All the other Children were still relaxed with their partners, not one of them looking like they were surprised as Mimi had predicted. Only TK had walked over to Matt, tugging on his sleeve and asking something quietly that made the older blonde blush and push him away. Gomamon was happily waddling through the grass, settling himself next to Tentomon and Izzy, asking loudly, "What is 'gay' anyway?"

The ladybug Digimon shrugged and turned brilliant lime eyes to Izzy, the redhead explaining in simple terms to the creatures, "It means that he feels a physical, emotional, and sexual attraction to those of his same gender."

Matt made a motion to stand, to leave, as Tai and Agumon giggled over something, obviously not paying attention to Izzy. But TK was still pouting, demanding the answer to his question, as Gomamon and Tentomon continued to stare blankly.

"He's a boy who likes other boys," Izzy clarified and Joe blushed as Tai finally looked in his direction. The brunette blinked, wondering what was going on with his friends.

Palmon ran over to Izzy, saying sweetly, "Mimi likes boys, does that make her gay?"

"No," Sora insisted and Joe looked over at her. Had that coldness in her voice always been there? He had a sneaking suspicion that she _knew_. That she knew and didn't like it. But it wouldn't matter since they were all friends, would it? The girl blinked away what could have been a glare and explained to Biyomon, "Because Mimi's a girl. That makes her straight, like the rest of us."

Joe swallowed the words that desperately tried to escape, _"Matt's not straight."_ But that wasn't right. If that had been true, than wouldn't the blonde have said something? Anything about those wonderful nights they used to share?

Had it all been in Joe's head? Had he been the only one to see it as something wonderful? Or had he already screwed it all up to leave himself all alone, just like he did every time?


	2. Chapter 2

_There's no need to take a stand_

_For it was I who chose to start_

* * *

2000:

Joe sighed as he listened to his mother scream beyond his door.

"I hate you! I fucking _hate_ you!"

He could hear his father, calmer than he'd ever seen the man in a situation like this, screaming back, "Sit your goddamn ass down!"

Then, the loud sound of someone being hit. At this point, Joe couldn't be sure who the aggressor was this time. He wished he could risk crossing the hallway to go hide in his brothers' room, but the last time he'd wandered out during one of his parents' fights, he'd ended up with a dislocated shoulder. So instead he threw himself into his schoolwork like he always did and ignored the sound of his mother choking on her latest prescription.

He ran his hand through his hair, making a face at the strands that stress had claimed as they twined in his fingers. He wondered if he should start growing out his hair – try and prevent himself from going bald by the time he was twenty.

He removed his glasses, digging the heels of his palms into his bleary eyes, and sighed. If he didn't have his homework done by the morning, he was sure to have _at least_ another black eye. But he was just so tired from his mother's mood swings, his father's anger, his brothers' fear. He wasn't sure how much longer he could take all of this...

A muffled _bzz bzz_ made him jump in his chair, and he ran to his bed. Tucked away in his pillow case was his secret treasure his father would literally kill him for owning. He flipped open the silver cellphone after a brief pause to make sure his parents were still fighting with each other.

"Hello?" He had to speak softly and he was worried whoever was on the other end wouldn't be able to hear him.

"Good evening, Joe," came the equally soft voice. "How are you today?"

"Hey, Izzy." Joe curled up on his bed. As scared as he was of not finishing his homework, he the insecurity in his friend's usually even voice was worse. "Are you ok?"

"I called in the hopes that you would have a sufficient response to my inquiry..."

"What happened?" Joe flinched at the sound of a plate shattering somewhere in the living room. He'd be yelled at to clean that up soon. "Is everything all right?"

"I, ah, was merely wondering, if... I mean I had hoped to know... Well..."

Joe wasn't sure whether or not to be amused at his normally stoic friend's unsure stammering. "Izzy, whatever you want to ask, I'll gladly answer for you."

"That is a relief," Izzy sighed, filling the line with static. "Joe, back then... When did you realize you were a homosexual?"

Joe gagged, choking on the sudden leap of his stomach and he tried to desperately still his coughing as Izzy cried out on the other end, "I'm sorry! I didn't think that you -"

"N-no!" Joe slapped himself on the chest, worried about kickstarting an asthma attack, and cleared his throat. "D-don't worry about it!" He wheezed to clear his throat, glad his parents were still arguing and ignoring the rest of their family.

"I apologize," Izzy said quickly. "If this is an inappropriate line of questioning, I will refrain from inquiring further..."

"It's not that," Joe clarified. He paused as the arguing stilled, renewing after a moment with another curse and thrown dish. His mother's manic episode sure was lasting a long time, and he was worried about how hard she would crash into her depressive state. Hopefully she wouldn't make another suicide attempt when she came back down. "I just never expected someone like, well, _you_ to ask something like that."

"It came as something of a surprise to me, as well," Izzy admitted softly, as though ducking away from the shadow of his own parents.

"Well, I realized it..." Joe tried to think back, to ignore his mother's screaming threats and his father's enraged hitting. He thought briefly of Matt and felt himself blush all the way to his shoulders. Surely Izzy didn't want to know about _that_ even if Matt didn't seem to think of it so fondly as Joe did. "It was never really a big thing to me, I guess. Everyone else was attracted to girls and I just found myself focusing more on the boys. There was no 'a-ha' moment or fighting with myself – I just _was._ It wasn't until that day that I really even labeled myself _._ " The silence on the other end told him that wasn't the answer Izzy was expecting. "I'm sorry..."

"No, no," Izzy said quickly. "I find it admirable that you are able to be so secure with yourself with such a delicate matter."

"But it didn't help _you_ , did it?" Joe sighed. Of course it didn't help. His father was right, he wasn't any good to anyone.

"It did," Izzy said gently, with a warmth Joe didn't think he deserved. "It helped me realize these feelings that I thought were new, have always been with me. That I've always felt this way, even when I assumed I couldn't feel anything."

"I'm glad then." Joe felt his lips begin to curve into a smile only for his father's voice to cry out down the hall.

"Goddamnit, Joe! Get in here and help me deal with your mother!"

"I gotta go," Joe said quickly. "Good luck with everything." And with that, he flipped his phone closed, shoving it deep into his pillow case. If he wasn't out in the living room within seconds of his name being called, he would be in big trouble.

He could hear his brothers' door click open, and he could feel one of them watching him as he ran down the hall. But they wouldn't follow him. _They_ hadn't been called.

He swallowed hard, pausing at the end of the hall. He could see his mother, face down on the couch and still. His father stood over her, fists bloody and breathing heavily. Joe hated himself for hoping she was finally dead and free of this terrible place called home.

"Joe, take Joanne to the room," his father spat, not even bothering to look at his child. "Her medication should be completely working by the time she wakes."

"Yes, Father," Joe said, quietly but politely with an overly respectful bow. Anything less would result in another concussion. He waited for the tall man to leave before rushing to the frail woman. Her frizzy blue hair was flecked with blood and as he turned her over, she coughed, spitting out one of her false teeth that had been knocked loose again.

"Mom?" Joe tried to smile, to reassure the drugged woman. "Hey, c'mon, Mom, let's get you to bed."

She blinked heavily, watching as her son reached out to lay a gentle hand on her shoulder. She knew somewhere deep inside was this raging fire desperately trying to get free, but the sudden haze that had come over her was trying to douse it. "Joe...?"

"Yeah, it's me." Joe was relieved. It seemed _this_ prescription let her keep her memories. "Now come on, you remember how to walk, right?"

She reached out, past the outstretched hand and caressed the dark splotch that darkened his cheek. Joe flinched at the gentle touch, grabbing her hand and tugging at her. Slowly, as though remembering how legs were supposed to work, she allowed herself to stand. Joanne leavened heavily on her son's shoulder as he walked her toward the master bedroom. She wanted to say something, to remember what was happening in the world around her, but she couldn't get her lips to move.

Joe laid his mother back down in the bed she was sure to be kicked out of later that night. He pulled the blankets over her, trying to make her as comfortable as he could, wave after wave of guilt filling him. His brothers told him, over and over, that it wasn't his fault, but he couldn't bring himself to believe it.

If his father was right, like he always was, than this was just another one of his own mistakes.

* * *

2003:

There it was again, the screaming. The fighting. It was the neverending noise that constantly filled the Kido household. Except this time it was different.

This time, Joanne was already passed out in her bed, strapped down to still her seizures. Her latest prescription had caused an allergic reaction, and Joe had been the one to scrub the half digested pills from the rug in the living room. This time there wasn't the noise of things being thrown, no sound of flesh on flesh.

"I have given you enough time to change your mind," Shou was yelling. His hands were in fists at his sides, a strange place for them to be at a time like this. Usually the knuckles were bloody and bruised by now. "Now I insist that you give up that silly hobby of yours -"

"That 'hobby' is my major!" screamed the voice that had always been so gentle, so comforting. "For God's sake, Dad, I'm nineteen!"

"And that's plenty old enough to realize that running around with an old man, chasing fairy tales, is insane!"

"They're not just fairy tales, Dad," Shuu shot back. "You were _there_ at Big Sight!"

Shou sputtered and Joe flinched on the floor, trying to make sure the vomit didn't stain. It was only a matter of time before there was physical violence again. It just took longer with his brothers, as they were more likely to fight back. "Th-that was nothing more than a mass panic! You can't expect me to believe that a _vampire_ tried to destroy Japan."

"And about about last year? Or even a few months ago?" Shin insisted. He was more awake than he'd ever been in his life, and he stepped between Joe and his arguing brother. "When all those Digimon were all over the world? Hell, you can still see BlackWarGreymon's shadow in the sky! Or even when Diaboromon was at the Rainbow Bridge? You can't just ignore all these things, Dad, and pretend everyone else has, too!"

"Do not raise your voice at me!" Shou screamed. "As long as both of you are under _my_ roof, you will not disrespect me!" There was a knocking at the door. "Goddamnit, Joe! Get that!"

Joe flinched and stumbled over himself as he ran for the door. His father may have been more hesitant to hit his brothers, but Joe was smaller, weaker. He reached the door, an unspoken truce calming the arguing in the living room as he cracked it open. There was a young woman standing nervously in the hallway. Joe peeked out with the eye that hadn't been blackened, asking softly, "How can I help you ma'am?"

"Oh, ah..." She tried to smile. "Good afternoon. I'm from down the hall, and I was just wondering if everything was all right in here...?"

"We're fine. The TV's just a bit loud – my mom was doing dishes and we couldn't hear over it." Joe bowed, the usual lie placating the sweet young thing. "I apologize, and I'll turn it down."

"It's no trouble," the woman giggled. Joe had realized long ago it was easier for people to accept the lies than the truth. It kept them from becoming involved, becoming responsible for whatever would happen later. "Just keep an eye on the volume next time, ok?"

Joe smiled, the expression painful, and closed the door. There was barely a moment's silence before Shou began again, "Look what you little bastards did now!"

" _We_ didn't do anything!" Shuu raged back.

"Look, can't we just calm down?" Joe pleaded, returning to the war zone. "Or at least lower the volume?" He knew there would be no second visit from the neighbor. Just from the police, and it was much harder to lie to them.

"Joe's right," Shin tried to reason. "We need to calm down, and just think about this, ok?"

Shou fixed a glare on his middle son. But thankfully he didn't raise his fist. Instead, he turned on his heel and stormed to the bedroom. There was a drugged scream as Joanne was ripped from the bed, kicked out of the room into a crumpled heap on the floor.

"Joe, take care of _that._ Shin, Shuu, to your room."

The older brothers glared at the bedroom door that slammed closed. Joe shoved past them, rushing to his mother, gently shaking her shoulder, making sure she was still alive.

"Let's go, Mom. I'll get the couch all fixed up for you again."

"Let us help," Shin began, but Joe shook his head.

"She's my responsibility, she always has been." The woman was shuddering, the after effects still lingering. Shuu reached out as they passed, steadying his mother so that Joe could make a clean spot for her to lay.

"That just what Dad's always told you."

"Well, he's right, isn't he?" Joe snapped. Joanne whimpered at the loud noise and he gave her an apologetic hug.

"Just because he says it so often, doesn't make it true," Shin insisted. "Mentally ill people stop taking their medication all the time, for all different reasons."

"And _I_ just so happened to be the reason this time." Joe helped his mother lay back, covering her with her usual blanket. She blinked heavily before falling asleep. "She was diagnosed with bipolar after she had you, right Shin?" The middle brother looked away, not wanting to agree, to help his brother in his self hatred. "And you always said she was good about taking her pills. That she was _happy_ , not just _there_. Then I come along by accident and she stops taking them. How is that not my fault?"

"You know lithium causes birth defects," Shuu said. Their mother was completely passed out and would be until well into the morning. "She was trying to protect you."

"By what? Making herself crazy? Whenever she _does_ take her pills now, they never work! Just because you two don't see it, doesn't make it any less real. You two are starting to sound like Dad!"

Joe turned to storm off, but Shin grabbed his arm. The youngest glared behind his glasses, the pain making his eyes water. "Look, we didn't want to say this in front of Dad, but Shuu and I are leaving."

"L-leaving? Where are you going?"

"We're going to move out," Shuu said. "Me and Jun have been looking at apartments, and we found a place in Koto. It's really nice, far away from here and Dad. Jun was going to have her own room, but if you want to go with us, I can talk her into staying in mine and letting you have it."

"M-move out?" Joe yelped, quickly being shushed.

"Dad can't know," Shin insisted. "He's already pissed at us, God knows what he'd do. And we don't have it yet – there's a thirty day waiting period before we can move in." He smiled at his younger brother. "C'mon, Joe. Come with us."

"But... But what about Mom?" Joe bit his lip.

"She's good at staying out of Dad's way," Shin said. "Especially when she's medicated. Besides, he'll probably have her committed after a day on his own, anyway."

"I... I..."

"Joe," Shuu pleaded. "It's not healthy here for you. Dad doesn't give a shit, he's going to kill you one day, and you know it!"

Joe shook his head, covering his ears. "Tomorrow," he begged. "Let me think until tomorrow, ok?"

Each of his brothers hugged him tightly, desperately. They ruffled his hair as though nothing had happened and gave him their usual sad smiles. "Ok. Let us know tomorrow."

Joe tore himself away, retreating to his room and collapsing on his bed. His cell phone dug into his cheek and he contemplated calling someone, anyone, to open a Digital Gate so he could find the comfort of Gomamon's silky fur and sharp wit. But instead, he curled into himself, trying to convince himself his brothers were wrong, that is really _was_ his fault that his mother was messed up.

After all, if he couldn't blame himself, who could he blame?

* * *

Early the next day, before Joe's alarm went off, there was a sharp knock on his door. Shou's voice, loud and stern as always, came through the wood, "You're staying home from school today. Your mother is in my room, recovering from her illness."

And then the familiar sound of the deadbolt on the _outside_ of his door sliding home. There was no such lock on the inside, nothing to keep anyone out. Just to keep Joe in. Even before, long before Myotsimon, Shou had welded Joe's window shut to prevent any "troubled teenage escapes".

Joe just blinked sleepily at the noise, used to it. He'd been locked in his room often enough, especially when his father thought he was becoming too strong willed. That backbone he'd developed during Spiral Mountain had crumbled quickly.

So with Shou at work, Shuu at his University, Shin at med school, and Joanne equally caged, Joe rolled out of bed. Without the ability to go to school, he would be expected to complete the next three nights' homework or risk being called out as lazy and stupid. He stretched and winced at the pain in his face, the stench of vomit still on his hands. If he finished his work soon enough, he could call one of the other Children when they got out of school.

Around noon, he could hear an odd noise, the banging and crashing of the front door being opened and shut repeatedly. But his mother wasn't screaming, so burglar, if it was indeed, hadn't thought to raid the master bedroom.

Still the hours passed uneventfully. When he tried to call any of the Children, his phone merely beeped at him "No signal" and he made a face at it. He wished he could risk upgrading the thing to something better, but he was already having trouble keeping this one secret. He tried to open his door a few times, seeing if maybe the bolt hadn't been secured properly and he could sneak out to eat or go to the bathroom, but it was steadfast in its singular duty. So he spent his time rolling on his bed, double- triple- quadruple-checking his work, wondering what his brothers would say to him if they knew, when he told them.

He wasn't going to leave. Despite their reassurances, he knew deep in his heart his mother's illness was his sin to bear. He thought briefly of that time in the Digital World, at the Diner when Tai came back, before Matt revealed his true intentions to Joe (or lack thereof).

He wasn't going to leave the restaurant, he remembered thinking. He'd only gone out on the step to see what the commotion was, and then to say goodbye to the blonde who had been his lover for three months. The same responsibility that bound him to his mother had bound him to Digitamamon, and though it broke his heart, he couldn't leave before his debts were paid.

And his debt to Joanne for his very existence wasn't something he could ever repay.

So he would do the same thing here in the real world. He would stand beside his sick mother, next to his father, whose abuse he could only see as fitting punishment for making his wife so ill, and tell his brothers goodbye. Goodbye and good luck with their own lives he would never get the chance to experience for himself.

Except...

Except they never made it home.

It was late at night, when Joe was certain he was about to explode with the need to go to the bathroom, when Shou finally unlocked the deadbolt. The man looked at his thin, frail son, and said simply, "Your brothers are gone."

There was a devastating moment where Joe heard the unspoken words. That there had been an accident, that they had been taken, even that they'd jumped in front of a train together. His knees were weak and he began to collapse on his bed when Shou continued.

"I heard last night that they were going to leave. So I changed the locks today and told the landlord that they were no longer welcome here." Shou nodded to himself, as though it were normal to kick out two sons in one day. "As long as you're still here, you'll be under my rule. I won't tolerate disobedience like I did with those two for so long." He yawned suddenly, calmly. "I've had a long day, so make dinner quickly, Joe."

"Y-yes, sir," Joe breathed.

He had really hoped to say goodbye.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So~ I was going to post this like I had for ever other part to Digimon V! - a new chapter every 10 views. Somehow I forgot that nobody likes Joe ;-; So for the few of you out there actually interested in this fic, I'll try and remember to get the next chapter up around once a week or so.

_I see no need to take me home_

_I'm old enough to face the dawn_

* * *

2004:

Joe swallowed hard, holding his ticket tightly. All this stress was irritating the bruise stretched across his back, and he resisted the urge to reach back and rub at it. He had a test score to find. He stepped closer to the poster and hunted through the lists of numbers, looking for the one that matched his ticket.

2047...

He bit his lip and adjusted his glasses as he pushed through the crowd. He could hear the other students' hopeful voices amidst their rainbow of middle school uniforms. Some were friends looking to stay together in high school, others were groups sadly splitting away for the greater good.

2047...

He squeezed through a gaggle of girls in gray uniforms, gagging on the heavy cloud of perfume that surrounded them. He reached back, comforted by the bulge of his inhaler in his back pocket, and ducked below a high five that clapped in front of his face.

"Sorry, man," whoever it was laughed with a distinct smoky stench, and Joe smiled politely to hide his grimace. Hopefully they were happy to have _not_ been accepted, as he was certain Merston High wouldn't be the place for someone like that.

2047...

He pushed and stumbled his way to the front of the crowd, still searching for his number. If he hadn't been accepted, or even if he _had_ but his class number was too low... He shuddered at the thought, trying to wipe the nightmare-ish vision from his mind before he could dwell on the reality behind it. Next to him, a girl in a yellow uniform squealed, throwing her arms around the boy standing beside her. She had short, choppy brown hair, bangs held to one side with a shimmering white and green butterfly clip.

"Lookit, Shinji! We both made it in!"

The boy, striking in his black uniform next to her, smiled and tousled her hair, knocking her large, round glasses playfully. "I knew you could do it, Nana."

"I wish we could have both been in the same class again, though..." She reached up to adjust her round glasses at the same time Joe did, catching the movement with her light brown eyes and giggling.

But Joe put them out of his mind, scanning up the list number by agonizing number. He _needed_ to find 2047. And hopefully nowhere near the bottom.

The more he looked, however, the more his heart sank. He couldn't find himself anywhere on the chart, and the only thing that meant was that he wouldn't be able to go home. Or, if he did, he'd never see the light of another day.

He was suddenly aware of a presence, and he looked over to see that yellow-uniformed girl peering over his shoulder. Well, as short as she was, she was on her tiptoes and looking at his ticket. Joe swallowed his discomfort and stepped away self consciously, noting just how familiar she looked, even if he couldn't quite place her.

"Can I help you?" he asked, words dripping with politeness, and the girl just smiled at him.

"I think you're in my class." She pointed to a smudged number at the top of the posting. "I'm right there, number 4077 in 1-A. It looks like the printer messed up on your number right above mine."

She was right, he realized. If he squinted just so, the splotchy number at the absolute top of the chart could have said 2047.

"My name is Nana Terrano. My parents want me to be a thoracic surgeon, but I'm thinking about becoming a nurse. More interactive with the patients, you know?" the girl chirped with a warm smile. She made a quick bob of a bow and Joe was able to get a closer look at her hairclip. What had at first seemed like a simple butterfly, was in fact, delicately woven together emeralds and diamonds set amongst scuffed white gold. It was beautifully huge, almost the size of Joe's fist, but she wore it with all the grace and elegance of a princess.

"I'm Joe Kido, and I will be a vascular surgeon," he found himself saying and he bowed deeply, biting his tongue to keep from wincing at the pull on his bruise. He knew he should have been studying last night, but he couldn't stop thinking of Gomamon... "It's nice to meet you."

"You too," Nana giggled. She reached out, grabbing the hand of the boy in the black uniform. "This is my boyfriend, Shinjiro Takuou."

The boy, man really, was much taller than Joe, built thick with muscle. His dark hair was cut short and his equally dark eyes were sharp as they looked at him. For a moment, Joe was terrified. Shinjiro looked like he could pick up his father with one hand and wipe the floor with him without breaking a sweat. But then he smiled, so warm and serene, and Joe could easily see how a sweet looking girl like Nana could fall for him.

"It's nice to meet you, as well. I'm going to try and become a pediatric doctor after I graduate," Shinjiro said with such a gentle softness, it was almost disconcerting.

Joe nodded, awkwardly. Now that he had his score, he had to hurry home and tell his father that he'd made the top of his class already. But that brunette girl was pouting at him, squinting as though her glasses weren't working.

"You know," she said. "You look really familiar. Like... Super-duper familiar."

"Maybe you sat next to me in the testing room?" Joe tried. He didn't like her inspecting look, as though she were staring down his very soul. It made him nervous that she would be the first person to recognize him from all those supposed "terrorist bombings" and mass panicking years ago.

"Not that," she said, shaking her head and making her butterfly clip flap its jeweled wings. "Like we were outside. Do you protest at the chemical plant or go jogging down by the Ferris Wheel?"

"I don't have the lung capacity for either of those," Joe responded with a smile that was more of a grimace, thinking quickly of his inhaler. He was starting to sweat, to panic like he always did. "M-maybe when we were kids?"

"Or maybe it was a previous life," Nana said seriously. Then she laughed, a warm noise unfamiliar to Joe's ears. "When I visit my coven tomorrow night, I'll have to ask if they can help me look."

"Your... coven?" Joe blinked at the odd word choice to describe her friends.

"Oh." Nana beamed, holding up the hand that was still holding Shinjiro's. Around her wrist sat a thin silver bracelet, a simple pentacle dangling freely. For a moment, Joe wanted to reach up, to touch the one he'd had hidden under his shirt since his grandmother gave it to him when he was eight. "Some of my friends from middle school got together and we meet up once a week. Everyone says we turn people into frogs, but mostly we drink Starbucks and bitch about our boyfriends – oh, uh, sorry Shinji."

The man smiled, a twinkle in his eyes betraying his silent laughter, and even Joe could find himself attracted to Shinjiro. Before the blush could rise on his cheeks, Joe bowed and turned away.

"I have to go. I'll see you in class, then, Miss. Terrano."

Nana just smiled, waving him off with a sweet, "Blessed be."

* * *

Joe was certain, the first day of high school couldn't go any worse.

He'd been woken up that morning, not by his alarm, but by his ringtone. He sat up so fast he almost flung himself from the bed, desperately digging into his pillowcase. He must have hit the volume button in his sleep, and he cursed himself over and over. If his father were to pass by his room and even _think_ he heard the sound of a phone...

He silenced it quickly, desperately, straining his ears to listen for any footsteps, sturdy or stumbling. It was no number he recognized, a telemarketer obviously, and he wanted nothing more than to throw it across the room. When his father didn't fly into his room in a rage, he stood and stretched, trying to wake up enough to look like he was sitting at his desk, studying before classes, for when his father _did_ come by.

He was pulling on his shirt when he noticed his necklace was no longer around his bruised neck: his father's punishment from the night before for Joanne's manic screaming being loud enough to alert the neighbors. The cord, already old when he received it, had finally snapped in the middle of the night and his pendant was gone. For a moment he was panicked, remembering his kindly grandmother taking the necklace from her own neck and placing it about his. The small pentacle had survived his life from Heighton View Terrace and through the entirety of the Digital World, revealed only to one person in the dead of night in a cramped boiler room.

He tore his bed apart, tossing the sheets and pillows, finding the pendant on the floor, under the mattress. He dug in his closet, finding an old pair of tennis shoes and he quickly strung it on a shoelace. He'd have to find a new cord after school – hopefully he'd have enough time before his cram school started to stop by the store. Quickly, he remade his bed, placing his pillows in their proper places and tucking in his sheets to strict hospital corners.

He'd only just sat at his desk and cracked open his textbook when his father appeared, flinging open the door like he always did. Like he expected to find the room crawling with girls or drugs or any other "contraband". Joe shuddered at the memory of his father finding the manga Tai had accidentally left in his bag.

"You're already at the top of your class, and I expect you to stay there," Shou said by way of greeting. "I won't accept anything less – not anymore."

"Yes, Father," Joe murmured to his desktop. Just loud enough to be heard, but not loud enough to be considered yelling.

"Give your mother her pills before you leave. I don't need the neighbors hearing her have an episode again."

And with that, the man was gone. Turned on his heel and out the door without another word. It was always like that, though. If the apartment burned down and killed his imprisoned wife and child, he would be more upset about the loss of his precious medical journal collection.

But Shou hadn't locked the deadbolt on Joe's door, so the boy made his way into the master bedroom. His mother was on her side on the bed, still lost in her own mind, shivering from the night of "marital"s she'd been forced to share as payment for sleeping in the same room. She accepted her pills easily, swallowing them dry, and tried to reach out for Joe as he passed by.

"I'll be back this afternoon, Mom," he told her sweetly. "So be good, ok? Let your pills work for once."

Her lips opened, quivering, but no noise came forth. But that was normal, too. Usually when she was depressed, she lost all ability to talk. It was when she was manic that she was truly in danger.

He grabbed his bookbag and ran out the door, locking it carefully behind him. Hopefully, Joanne wouldn't be able to remember how to work the bolt. His deep green, almost black, uniform was still new, and the collar scratched at his aching throat uncomfortably. The books were heavy, pulling at his nearly dislocated shoulder, but he managed to make it to his school on time. His classroom was empty when he got there, so he took his usual seat in the front row by the far window. This way, when his father found out, he couldn't say Joe was being lazy.

Slowly, the room began to fill, chattering groups of students, already first-day friends and cliques forming around him. He thought, briefly, what the other Children were doing now, but he knew. He knew, because he wished he could do the same thing.

They were all lost in themselves. None of them speaking, none of them reaching out for the others.

He could still see that shadow of BlackWarGreymon, the sickeningly green glow of his data that was infecting the very last Digital Gate, one year to the day of his well-intended sacrifice. He was sitting on the bench, Gomamon curled against his chest. The seal's eyes were glassy, holding back tears.

" _I just don't know what you're going to do without me," Gomamon was saying. His usually snarky voice cracking. "I always thought we'd be together forever, you know? But this just means that I get to live up the bachelor life again." Joe gave a sob of a laugh. Gomamon didn't know what "bachelor" meant - he'd just heard the word from Tai._

_The gate was closing, vanishing, Gennai announcing that it was time. The seal wrapped his claws around Joe's shoulders, tears soaking into his shirt. "Now don't be stubborn," Gomamon warned, "you have friends. Let them help you."_

Even now, Joe had to wonder. How much had Gomamon known? The little seal had never said anything about the bruising that would spontaneously appear, but those emerald eyes always noticed. The Children had spent so much time explaining to the Digimon the concepts of family, of parents and brothers and love that was different between friends and couples...

Suddenly, Joe was hit with the need to find his way to the Digital World once more, to try and find his abandoned partner and explain that everything was all right – that what he was going through was nothing more than the price he had to pay for his very birth.

He was just shaking his head, trying to clear away the sadness and darkness that threatened to overwhelm him when that girl, yellow uniform changed to his same forest green, suddenly stood over him, a triumphant look on her face.

"I remember you now," Nana said with a proud grin. "You stole my bike that day that giant Angel-monster descended on the Rainbow Bridge."

Joe yelped, almost falling out of his desk. Thankfully, there was still just enough time before classes were supposed to start, so not too many students were there to snicker at him.

"N-no!" he yelped as conspicuously as possible. "I, I, I have no idea what you're talking about!"

Nana just smiled, seating herself comfortably at the desk next to him. She put her chin in her palm, bracelet dangling its pagan charm freely, and she continued, "And there was that Christmas a few years ago when that T-Rex attacked the concert hall where The Teenage Wolves were playing. I went with my friends after our deforestation protest, and we saw your little pets feed it to a computer."

Joe shook his head so hard he almost flung his glasses across the room. Whether he was denying Nana's accusations or the memory of Sora walking away, hand in hand with Matt, he wasn't sure.

"That's... That's not what happened," he insisted, despite her knowing smirk. "It was a, a mass panic following an optical illusion set up by the TV station to increase ratings." That was what Shou always said had happened that night.

"Then how did an optical illusion blow up a building and fracture my ankle, hm?" Nana asked, and Joe didn't have an answer.

"Look," he whispered, making Nana lean in close to hear him. "Just forget it, ok? Stuff like that won't ever happen again."

"What makes you so sure?" Nana asked.

"Because, I..." Joe bit his lip and looked to his desk. He didn't want to say it, the words spoken outloud would only serve to cement what had happened into reality. "Because I saw his virus..."

Nana frowned, concerned at the tears shimmering behind the young man's glasses. She opened her mouth to say something, anything to help the obviously distressed man next to her when Rini, her friend who had followed her from middle school, suddenly flung herself onto Nana, chattering excitedly into her ear about all the cute boys she'd already met, and Nana promptly forgot all about Joe.

Joe himself was relieved for the distraction, pleased to be away from the center of attention. He was very glad for all of Gennai's doings long ago, destroying any and all evidence of the Children's original fights. He never understood how Matt could stand all that attention from fans for his band, as he much preferred the silence of isolation. He bowed his head and pulled into himself, using every trick he'd learned from Izzy on how to keep from standing out in a classroom as he pretended to read the welcome pamphlet he'd memorized days ago.

It was as the teacher walked in and the classroom finally settled at the sound of the bell, that Joe saw the crumple of paper fall on his desk. He looked up at Nana sharply and she smiled, mouthing the words, "open it" before acting like she was paying attention to their homeroom lecture. Joe tried to look as nonchalant as he could in the front row as he smoothed out the paper, as though it was something he'd meant to do all along. And, as the newly-introduced Mr. Soruko turned to the whiteboard to begin his lesson, Joe glanced down to read Nana's note.

_Meet me on the roof after school. I'll tell everyone about the T-rex if you don't._

Joe glared at the brunette out of the corner of his glasses, but she was acting as though he didn't exist. What kind of threat was this? What evidence did she have to back it up, aside a healed ankle and a auditorium full of witnesses that couldn't even remember the band that had been playing that night?

But Joe knew he would follow through. If only for his own cowardice, he would do as he was told.


	4. Chapter 4

_Just call me angel of the morning, Angel_

_Just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby_

* * *

2004

He thought he would be able to forget about the note (threat?), to be able to pass through the day as though nothing had happened. Nana seemed to have forgotten about it almost completely, going about her day giggling with her friends, even leaving the classroom to have lunch with her boyfriend in the hallway.

Joe cursed himself for forgetting to make his lunch that morning, too scared that if he passed Nana to go to the cafeteria she would announce his carefully-hidden existence to the school. So he sat at his desk and starved, like he was used to at home, already hard at work on his first homework assignment. If it wasn't done by the time his father came home, being choked to the verge of unconsciousness for letting his mother escape into the hallways would seem a mercy.

Cliques and groups formed all around him, students already seeking out friends they would follow for the next four years, and Joe was scared that any one of them would approach, would try and interact. He never liked the look in his classmates eyes when he revealed he knew nothing of the current world outside medical events. That he didn't know what songs or movies were popular, much less current, but he could tell them about the latest successful heart transplant or how long a brain was viable for without oxygen during surgery.

By the end of classes, Joe was ready to grab his bag, to head home and tell his father everything the man wanted to hear about how strict the school was concerning grades, or truancy, or even club membership. He waited for the other students to leave first, lest he accidentally trip and run his damaged arm into anyone, but one person stood at the doorway, waiting.

Nana stood, oddly stiff, using the desk closest to the door to dig through her bag, looking for makeup or books or whatever excuse she was using to linger.

Joe swallowed hard, steeling what little will he had left. If he could pretend to be too busy for whatever nonsense she was planning, if he could act like what she had to say couldn't shake him to the core, maybe he could get through this day. He would worry about tomorrow if he could live to see it.

He set his shoulders like his father always did, ignored the stinging pain that still lingered, and stood. He walked to the door, pausing long enough to begin as formally as Shou ever spoke to anyone beneath him, "Excuse me -"

"Hey, about that note..." Nana said, a soft sadness tingeing her voice as her body suddenly sagged just so.

Joe cursed himself for caring so much as his expression softened of its own will. "Are you ok?"

Nana bit her lip, and Joe could see the shine of tears being held back. "I'm really sorry about it. I was talking with Shinji and he told me what a jerk I sounded like." She adjusted her glasses and Joe could see her use the same hidden motion that he did to wipe her eyes. "I didn't mean to, I really, honestly just wanted to talk..."

"I-its fine," Joe heard himself say as comfortingly as he could. He hated when anyone else felt bad, knowing he would give in so make her happy. "I have some free time if you still wanted to..."

"Would you really?" Nana smiled brilliantly, her butterfly clip shining in her sudden joy. "Even though I was being so totally uncool?"

"You just didn't know how else to get my attention," Joe told her with a shrug that didn't betray how much it hurt to make the motion. "What did you want to say?"

"Let's go up to the roof," Nana suggested. "It's really nice up there, and we won't have to worry about any teachers running into us."

"That sounds fine." The young woman squealed her delight, snatching up her bag and rushing into the hallway, waiting impatiently for Joe to follow. As they walked, Nana chattered idly about how hard it was to make a vegan _obento;_ that her tofu always got warm and soggy so she usually just ended up using chicken anyway, and Joe couldn't help himself from saying suddenly, "I noticed the bracelet you wear..."

"Hm?" Nana blinked, automatically raising her hand to her hairclip. As though realizing it, she laughed. "Sorry, it's just that everyone talks about my butterfly before they see my bracelet." She jingled the tiny charm in front of her face as she explained happily, "It's something my mom bought me back when she thought I was only going through a phase. She bought me my first books, and I've been so spiritually happy ever since." She giggled. "I'm sure you don't care, though, and I've just been rambling on."

"No, no, it's fine." Joe hesitated, reaching up to tug on the cord around his neck. She would be the second person to know, the first swearing to secrecy by the noise of a boiler and the stench of dishwater.

Nana beamed, clapping happily. "I knew it, I knew it! I can always tell when I meet another Witch – they have such bright auras." She looked closely at the pendant before Joe put it up. It was simple silver, tarnished with age, the eight moon phases lined up evenly around the star. "It's beautiful, it really is. I don't think I've seen one so well crafted."

"I got it from my grandmother when I was a kid," Joe admitted. Somehow her bubbly personality was becoming infectious as they ascended the stairs to the roof.

"How wonderful. I wish I could have an heirloom like that," Nana said dreamily.

Joe smiled, trying to keep the tension from his expression.

_"You just got here, Joanne! Stay until tomorrow, or for the week, or for forever - I don't care!"_

" _But_ _Mother, I need to go back!"_

" _With those bruises? With that arm? That man will kill you – and your children!"_

" _He doesn't hit Shin or Shuu. Not that much, anyway..."_

" _No, J'nney." A defeated sigh. "At least stay the night. And if you really want to go back to that bastard in the morning, don't tell me. I don't want to have to call the police."_

_A soft touch, a warm cord around his neck. Joe looked to his grandmother's sad smile, the bruises on his tiny face aching. He wanted to stay in that loving apartment forever, to never see his mother hurt or hear her scream again. Unfortunately, that was the night when the Digiegg opened in the sky, unleashing Parrotmon and sending him back to Odaiba after only a few safe hours._

Joe remembered suddenly, as they emerged blinking onto the roof, that was the first time he'd had a limb broken, punished for his mother's escape before the sun had even risen.

"Shinji!" Nana squealed, pulling Joe from his thoughts. She ran across the roof, throwing herself into her boyfriend's arms. "You're here!"

The man gave a tiny smile, but his eyes glittered with wonderful warmth. "Of course – you asked me to be here."

"Oh, I didn't realize I would be interrupting," Joe said, cursing his sudden crush on Nana's boyfriend. Obviously it was only because Matt was currently dating Sora, leftover emotions he'd been unable to purge himself of rising to the surface.

He bowed, turning to leave when Nana called out, "No wait!" She had her hand in Shinjiro's, fingers intertwined, absently swinging them together. "It's not like that. When I told Shinji about my note, he wanted to talk to you too. We just thought that, you know, it'd be a lot nicer up here than in a cramped classroom."

"What did you want to talk about?" Joe asked, swallowing his suspicions. They seemed nice enough, but suddenly he was aware of how little he knew them. Were they undercover reporters like he'd heard Matt's dad had to deal with a few times right after Myotismon's attack? No, he thought to himself, the sparkle in Nana's eyes was too sincere, her voice too honest and open.

"I wanna know about that T-Rex," Nana said quickly. She was beaming, the warm expression spreading to Shinjiro and making his tense shoulders relax. "And all those, like, spirits or whatever that Christmas."

Joe paused a moment, thinking about Shuu and the risk he'd taken, the price he'd paid, for his anthropology major. He hoped that his brothers were safe, wherever they had ended up that night. He could feel the sadness deep in his soul, darkness filling the hole where he'd been bonded to Gomamon for so many years, as he searched for the right words to begin.

"They're not... They're not spirits," he heard himself saying. He sat on the roof next to the fence, looking out over the school grounds. Nana quickly sat next to him, eager to hear his tale, and Shinjiro lowered himself gracefully next to her. "It's hard to explain, really," Joe continued. He took a deep breath, expecting to feel the hurt, the soul-deep pain he'd been living with since that fateful day only a few months ago. "It started a few years ago, back when I was eleven..."

As the words started, he found he couldn't stop them. He tried to remember all the jargon Izzy had said when he'd first tried to explain what had happened in the Sphinx. He reminisced about Gomamon, about his friends who were so lost in themselves right now. He explained the best he could about the powers within all of them, wishing he still wore his Digivice and even unbuttoning his uniform shirt low enough to show off the cross shaped scar burned into his flesh to defeat Apocalymon.

By the time his story was ending, his voice was getting gravely, mouth dry. Nana was crying, silent tears rolling down her cheeks, as she listened to BlackWarGreymon's legacy – his virus that had infected every last Digital Gate, sealing them all instead of just the one he'd intended. Even Shinjiro had cast his eyes down as Joe spoke of parting with Gomamon for the last time, knowing he would never see the digital seal for the rest of his life.

As Joe licked his dry lips, Nana wiped her eyes and said with a sad, dreamy tone, "I believe you'll see him again. Even if it's only in dreams, as long as you remember Gomamon, he'll never truly be gone."

"That means a lot," Joe whispered, not even feeling the tears that rolled down his cheeks until he reached up to wipe them away. "It... It really does, Nana."

"It's getting late," Shinjiro said sternly, a soft look making his words gentle. "Why don't you go on ahead, Nana."

"If you're sure," she pouted. Shinjiro gave a small twist of his lips, a smile that lit up his eyes brilliantly. He ruffled her bangs and toyed with the clip in her hair for a moment.

"I'll catch up with you. I just need to stay here and talk to Joe for a moment."

"W-with me?" Joe yelped. He tried to slink away, but a heavy hand landed on his shoulder and he flinched instinctively.

Nana nodded, allowing herself to he shooed away. Shinjiro refused to let go of Joe, and the young man was terrified of what was going to happen to him as soon as she was out of sight.

"Look," Shinjiro said after a moment. He finally let go, and Joe fought to not collapse. "I know this is sudden. Everything so far today has been sudden. But... Nana thinks of you as a friend." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a receipt for his lunch. Quickly scribbling on it, he handed it over. "This is Nana's cell and mine. If you need to talk about _anything,_ just give us a call."

"What are you talking about?" Joe murmured, still scared. Shinjiro's stern eyes bore into his, and he found he couldn't maintain the contact. Doing so with his father was usually interpreted as a challenge, and Shou didn't respond well to challenges. "I told you everything I knew about the Digital World."

Shinjiro just pressed the phone numbers into Joe's hand. "Call us. Please."

And with that, he walked down the stairs.

Joe looked at the numbers, two inconspicuous strings of digits that would probably send him to the hospital if his father ever found them.

His father...

Joe gasped painfully, reaching up to his neck and touching the bruises hidden under his collar. He'd completely forgotten about the two hand prints clearly around his throat that he'd shown off during his tale.

But this... This wary outreaching. This barest acknowledgment...

Joe was tempted to crumple the receipt and toss it off the roof. As if the numbers to two people he barely knew would help. Friends he'd had for years, the Chosen Children who had saved the world over and over with him, none of them had ever done anything. The bruises, the fractures, the burns and cuts – no one had ever cared enough to do anything about it.

No one had ever stopped this punishment, so why should Nana and Shinjiro's phone numbers make him feel any better?

But that night, after his father berated him for an hour for being late, after feeling the belt across his back for another half hour, and after stumbling to his room in a daze, he did grab his cell phone. As silently as he could, he input the two numbers.

Even if it didn't stop, he couldn't let them feel as bad as he did.

No one needed to feel the same pain that he went through.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended companion reading for this chapter: "Bubbly" ch. 4.

_Just call me angel of the morning, Angel_

_Then slowly turn away from me_

* * *

2004:

The days passed quick enough. Nana continued to drag him away, lunch after lunch. They met Shinjiro on the roof, in the courtyard, even at the cafe down the street as the school left the gates open for the hour-long lunch. There was no talk of the Digital World, of the bruising that kept showing up on his arms and neck, of anything important. Just idle chatter to fill the time as the spring days grew warmer.

"Here we go," Nana chirped happily. They were in the courtyard that afternoon as the young woman passed out the three _o_ _bento_ she'd made. Joe thought he felt someone's eyes on him, boring into his shoulder blades, but when he turned there was noone there. "Completely vegan. Well, almost. I bought this stuff the other day, 'Nay-onnaise' I think it's called? It's supposed to be mayonnaise without eggs, but I think it tastes like athlete's foot, so I used the real stuff."

Joe and Shinjiro just smiled, the simple smiles that they wore the days she made lunch. Nana always had some story of her culinary escapades, about some ingredient she had to replace or track down. Joe's favorite story was her trying to find a vegan alternative to octopus that wasn't expensive or tasted like plastic. In fact, it was the one she was currently telling.

"... so then I go down to the Lawson's – you know, the one over by OSA-P? And the guy there tells me that they don't make fake octopus. Like, at all. And I know he's yanking me because I bought some last week. It wasn't very _good_ , mind you two, but it _existed_. And some, some... produce jockey tells me I was imagining it." Nana pouted, jabbing at her spicy-mayonnaise tofu. "I wasn't imagining it..."

"Of course not, dear," Shinjiro said with a playfully-condescending pat on her wrist. She stuck her tongue out at him as Joe laughed.

Sometimes, the simple stuff, the idle stuff, that was what he needed to get through.

"Don't forget," Nana warned, turning to Joe with that same pout, that same mirth dancing behind her glasses. "It's your turn tomorrow to bring the _bento_. And don't give us any of that 'I don't have time' junk, I know plenty of spells to help speed you up in the mornings."

"All I need is coffee," Joe said. _And to sleep at night instead of listening to my mother trying to break out all night._

"I miss coffee," Nana sighed wistfully. "It's so expensive to buy the all-organic stuff. Can you believe that Starbucks is _cheaper_ than that mess?" She grabbed her last apple rabbit and set her _bento_ box aside. She played with the long, red ears before crunching its head off. She chewed thoughtfully, Shinjiro reaching over to adjust the butterfly clip in her hair as he helped Joe cram for his test next period.

"Hey," she said suddenly, swallowing her apple. "I think that boy out there is looking at you, Joe."

Joe choked on his last bit of tofu, pounding his chest to get it down without starting an asthma attack as Nana pointed to the gates. Sure enough, standing just outside the school property was a redhead in a dirty green uniform with sad, black eyes. Had he been the one staring? Couldn't have been, he assured himself. He'd had the feeling of being watched for days now.

"Th-that's Izzy," he yelped, brain finally catching up with him.

"He's one of your Chosen friends, isn't he?" Shinjiro asked as Nana watched the redhead pace uncomfortably.

"He's supposed to be in school right now..." Joe murmured to himself as he stood. "H-hey, I gotta..."

"Go, go," Nana shooed. "He looks like he needs a friend."

Joe gave her a distracted smile, more concerned with his just what Izzy was doing outside _his_ school. Odiaba Middle School didn't get out for hours and he'd never known the redhead to skip classes – not even for the Digital World! He hurried over to the gate, flagging down Izzy with a wave. Up close, he could see the dirt that stained his white shirt, the tears in his jacket like he'd run through a rosebush to get to Merston High. Even his tie was undone, hanging limply against his chest.

"You ok?" he asked as he approached. He saw Izzy's eyes flicker over his glasses, and knew he was looking at his bruising. It had only been a few days ago his father had blackened both his eyes for mentioning Shin at the dinner table. He rushed forward before anything could be said, "I didn't know the middle school was getting out early today."

Izzy swallowed hard, biting his lip and frowning, and Joe felt even more concerned. As little as anyone spoke of his injuries, it was even less than _that_ that Izzy showed such emotions. He looked like he was groping for words, finally casting his eyes downward and saying softly, "I was hoping to converse with you..."

"No problem," Joe told him with as comforting a smile he could manage. His eyes still hurt a little. "I still have a few minutes left of lunch." He turned to wave at Nana and Shinjiro who were watching them intently as he directed Izzy to one of the benches just outside the gate. He looked around curiously. "Is anyone else here with you?"

"To be perfectly honest," Izzy admitted with a touch of shame in his voice, "Odiaba Middle School is still in session. I was feeling ill and decided the best course of action would be to go home."

Joe almost laughed and hated himself for it. Izzy had never learned to lie, even being around Tai so much. He couldn't stop himself from reaching out, dusting the leaves and dirt from Izzy's hair. He used to think Izzy was cute, way back when he was trying to convince himself that it wasn't _just_ Matt he was attracted to. He still thought Izzy was cute, though he was absolutely dedicated to the blonde, unrequited as his feelings were.

"And yet," Joe said with a smile, "You ended up going the wrong way? After rolling in the dirt?"

Izzy blushed, eyes focused firmly on his lap. The only time Joe had known the redhead to have been this nervous was when he called so long ago, asking about his own feelings. Had Izzy found a boy to crush on?

Or, worse, had he been found out? Joe could _never_ let his father find out he was gay – that would be the end of his life and all his bones. Shou already had Joe's whole life planned out, from his wedding day to the day his child would be born, and anything to derail those plans would be met with even more punishment. But Izzy's parents were so nice, he couldn't believe that they would do anything that terrible...

"How do you do it?" Izzy asked, voice barely above a whisper. "How do you live like this?"

"Like what?" Joe asked, finally pulled from his thoughts.

"With this..." Izzy reached for the right words, struggling to breach that wall he'd built up between himself and his emotions. His eyes flicked to Joe, shimmering with tears. "This burning and longing, knowing you can never have him?"

Joe blushed, thoughts racing. He'd never told a soul about what had happened all those years ago; he'd never let on what he'd done those hot, Digital nights when he'd been trapped with the most beautiful boy for months; he'd never let it slip those horrifying secrets whispered just above the sound of a boiler, the fears and doubts sobbed into his touch when they finished. He'd promised. He'd _promised_ that noone would know. So how did Izzy...?

He'd always watched, hidden behind his laptop, never letting on that he was actually interested in the goings of the other Children. He's always been the one to observe, finding the hidden details through close inspection.

"I thought I had hidden it better than that," Joe admitted. "Then again, you always see more than you let on." Even if Izzy did know, he would never say a word. He smiled, his own emotions he thought he'd stamped down suddenly flooding him. Every unsure smile, every hesitant touch, every gentle cry of passion quickly muffled before the Digimon could ask what they were doing. He could feel the ache in his chest as he thought of their parting, of Matt denying their relationship in front of his brother, in front of Tai. He had thought that maybe, possibly he was just shy in front of the others, shy like he'd always been, but...

Even after returning from the Digital World, he'd stayed away. He'd never once approached, attempted to reconnect. Obviously their time together had meant nothing, had been just a fling in the blonde's eyes.

He could feel Izzy trembling next to him, hear the hitch of his breath that betrayed the tears brimming in his eyes. He folded his hands in his lap, feeling his glasses slide down the bridge of his bruised nose.

"It's terrible, isn't it?" he whispered to himself, to Izzy, to Matt... "Trying to stay friends without him knowing? Making sure that nothing slips? To try and find happiness in fleeting moments he'll never see in the same light as you?"

"What can I do about it?" Izzy asked, voice trembling. Joe looked over, empathy overflowing. He wished desperately he could help the poor boy though the same crisis he lived every day. "I never wanted my life to be ruled by my emotions – they're such fickle things."

"There's only two things you can do when it gets this bad," Joe told him, looking deep into himself. He recalled every late night phone call, every hushed conversation he'd dared to share with the blonde he still loved. "You can either stay as you are now: stamping down every flare of joy you get when you see him, pretending that any attention from him didn't just make your day a hundred times better, holding back until you cant take it anymore and you scream 'I love you' into your pillow over and over so you don't slip up and say it to his face and destroy any chance at staying friends, or..."

Joe took a shuddering breath, finally remembering that Izzy was there as the redhead asked softly, unsurely, "Or..."

Joe looked inside, searching for the courage that he didn't have inside. "Or you can confess." It sounded so simple, so easy to do. It would be so simple to walk up to Matt and tell him how deeply he felt, how desperately he wanted to go back to that time and continue to be the only boy in his eyes.

But he knew...

That Christmas, when he walked away with Sora...

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to drive the point home to his equally lonely friend, "Tell him how you feel and know for a fact how _he_ feels."

"I can't do that!" Izzy cried, the pain in his voice cracking Joe's heart. Tears were falling unnoticed down his cheeks. "I _know_ he's heterosexual – I've seen him on too many dates. The only thing confessing will do is break my heart and destroy any chance I have at staying close to him."

Joe couldn't take that pain he knew so well and reached out, pulling Izzy close.

"Why does it have to be this way?" Izzy whispered into Joe's side. "Why can't I just like _you_? We know each others preferences, we're friends, and we get along just fine. How can that be love and yet not be this strong?"

Joe rested his head on top of Izzy's, trying to fight away the blush that was creeping down to his shoulders. How had Izzy known about that brief crush? He heard himself speaking softly, admitting, "Even if we did hook up, would you want to be without that feeling forever? That intense warmth and joy?"

"I don't know how much longer I can take this..." Izzy said, swallowing a sob.

Joe hated the sudden thought. The one that told him that Izzy was even shyer than _he_ was, that he would never confess to that mystery boy. The one that said he would always have a companion in his misery.

"Whatever happens," he said, trying to keep the guilt from his voice, "just know I'm here, ok?"

The bell signaling the end of lunch rang, and as much as Joe hated having to leave his distressed friend, he couldn't let word get back to his father that he was so much as _late_ back to class. He gave Izzy a tight squeeze to let him know he wasn't alone and hurried back to Nana and Shinjiro just as the gates closed behind him.

"Is he ok?" Nana asked, almost on the verge of tears. She always called herself an "empath", but Joe just called her "kind-hearted".

"I... don't know," Joe said honestly, shaking his head. "Maybe eventually."

Nana looked through the gate where Izzy continued to linger, and gave him a small wave and the sweetest smile she could. As he finally turned away, Nana murmured, "Good luck..."

* * *

It was a few days later, after another bruise across his back wiped the memory of his conversation with Izzy from his mind, that the first envelope appeared.

Nana was swinging on Shinjiro's arm, words happily bubbling over like a rice pot as she talked about her latest meet-up with her coven, in the same breath telling them about how "exclusive" it was and encouraging Joe to join them in protesting the chemical plant's newest building.

"We'll have bullhorns," she sing-songed with a wink.

"I can't," Joe told, bent over to remove his school slippers and trying not to tear up. "I have cram today until about eight."

"You always have cram school," Nana pouted. "Blow 'em off for once."

"You know he can't," Shinjiro stated unhelpfully.

"I'll catch up with you some other time," Joe attempted, opening his shoe locker. He reached in blind, looking to Nana who was refusing to be placated. It was then that he felt it – long and flat, laid across his shoes.

"What is it?" Nana asked, trying to peer over his shoulder and frowning when she remembered she was too short.

"It's a...?" Joe pulled it out. A plain envelope, heavy and cream-colored paper, with his name written across the front in purple ink. "Letter?" He flipped it over, looking for any clue. "Maybe it's a handout I missed?"

"Ooh, I know!" Nana chirped, flinging herself onto Joe with a giggle. "You got a love letter!"

"A l-love letter?!" Joe yelped. Whether in surprise at the announcement or the young woman's arms wrapped around his throbbing bruise.

Nana reached out, grabbing the envelope as Joe was temporarily incapacitated. She held it up to the light, looking past the purple handwriting to try and read what was inside. "I bet I know who this is from, too."

Just as Nana was squinting to start reading, Shinjiro plucked the letter from her hands. She whined at him as he handed it back to Joe.

Joe blushed his thanks, holding the envelope to his chest. He couldn't think of what to say. A love letter? To _him_? If his name wasn't scrawled across it, he would have sworn it had been put in the wrong locker. "Wait... Who sent this?"

Nana stuck her tongue out at Shinjiro who just playfully flicked her butterfly clip. "I think it's Rini from class 3-B. She's been following you for about a week, now. Haven't you noticed her _staring_ at you all the time?" Joe opened his mouth to say something, _anything_ to deny it, but Nana just squealed impatiently. "Open it. Open it! I wanna see!"

"Nana..." Shinjiro warned, but she slapped his arm, looking no less excited.

Joe flipped the envelope, running a finger under the taped flap. The letter inside was the same, expensive paper written all over with the same purple ink.

" _I've loved you for so long,"_ it said, much to Joe's mortification. Nana tried to look at it and he pulled away self consciously, face burning almost painfully. _"I've only just found the courage in myself to tell you. Meet me at the fountain in Juuban Square at four o'clock tomorrow."_

"Did she sign it?" Nana asked, finally giving up her attempt to spy to give Shinjiro an apologetic hug.

"No name," Joe told her. Seeing the defeated look in her eyes, he handed the note over. Nana snatched it happily, reading it over even as Shinjiro sighed in mild irritation.

"It looks like Rini's handwriting," Nana announced. "She used to do all her assignments in purple back when we were in middle school. Probably why she's in 3-B." She gave Joe a wink and the letter back. "You got lucky – I hear she's a wildcat in the backseat."

Joe could only squeak, face redder than he could ever remember it being. Nana just laughed wildly, tears escaping in great streams down her cheeks. "Th-that's just... what she says, though!"

"Are you going to meet her?" Shinjiro asked as Joe glared, crumpling up the envelope and tossing it in Nana's face. She blinked in surprise, grinning at her friend's unusual display of mirth.

"I don't have a choice," Joe said with a painful shrug. He put the letter in his bag as Nana made a face.

"Don't be a butt," she whined. "I gave you a choice. Eventually."

Joe rolled his eyes, finally slipping on his shoes, waving as he hurried down the street. He couldn't be late to his cram school.

* * *

Joe couldn't help but be nervous. Thank goodness that his father was working a double shift at the hospital, so he would never know that Joe hadn't come straight home after school. He stood at the fountain, shifting his weight from foot to foot. His ankle ached where he'd twisted it when his mother collapsed on him the night before as his father was storming out the door. He checked his watch, nervously watching the seconds tick by. It was already ten past four and he wondered if he should just go ahead leave.

Obviously it was just a huge joke he'd been dumb enough to fall for. He bit his lip, tugging at the blistered flesh that was scarred from years of habitual chewing. Had Nana been in on it, too? Was that why she had been so insistent on reading the letter? No, she wouldn't be so mean...

He sighed deep enough to agitate his bruised ribs. It was stupid of him to come out all this way. What had he planned to say to the false-girl, anyway? "Sorry, but I'm in love with a boy who seems to have forgotten I exist?"

He grabbed his bag where it sat at his feet. If he caught the bus now, he'd be home in time to give his mother her afternoon pills.

As he was walking away, a shrill, excited voice called out, "W-wait! Mr. Kido!"

Joe turned, watching as a young woman in his same brown uniform ran up to the fountain. Her hair was short and curly brown, eyes bright green. Her already rouged cheeks were flushed as she stood before him, looking to her shoes.

"Ah, you must be..." Joe paused, trying to remember who Nana had been talking about. He almost recognized her from the first day of classes, before Mr. Soruko had chased her out into the hall and to her own class. "Ms... Rini?"

The young woman squeaked happily, blushing. She looked up at him through her long, false lashes, an expression that would have, and probably _did_ , work on other boys.

"You know me," she said. "I'm so glad." She shifted, swaying enticingly like a flower in a breeze. "I've... I've really liked you for a while, now."

"L-look, Ms. Rini," Joe began.

But the girl stepped closer, almost onto his toes. She pushed her breasts, large and stretching her school vest tight, against him, asking breathily, "Yes, Mr. Kido?"

Joe yelped, stumbling backwards. His bad ankle almost gave out, and he sat heavily on the lip of the fountain, almost falling in. Rini reached out to grab him by the hand, to steady him, pulling him close enough to smell the perfume she'd dabbed on her neck.

"Are you all right?" Rini asked, pursing her made up lips enticingly. "Mr. Kido?"

Joe blushed, leaning back. Her scent was becoming overpowering, making it hard to think. "Ms. Rini, w-what is it you want?"

"I thought it was obvious," she said, sitting next to him. She still held his hand in hers, and she smiled. "I," she blushed suddenly, furiously, "I want to go out with you."

"Well, Ms. Rini, I appreciate the thought and effort you went through..."

"You don't like me!" Rini accused. She pouted, sniffling back tears Joe couldn't see, and dabbing a dry handkerchief at the corners of her heavily shadowed eyes. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no, it's not that!" Joe yelped. "It's just that, uh..."

What would he tell her? What _could_ he tell her?

"That what?" she demanded with a pout.

"That... That..." Joe was thinking desperately, trying to back away without looking like it.

"Am I not your type?" Rini asked. "I can dye my hair, or grow it out if you want."

"It's not _that._ It's more like, hmm..."

"Are my boobs too big? Too small? What is it?" Rini glared behind her mascara as Joe continued to stutter. She gasped suddenly, dramatically. "Am I... the wrong _gender_?"

"No!" Joe yelped as conspicuously as possible. "It's definitely not that!"

"It is!" Rini crowed as Joe blushed. "You're ga-"

"Not outloud!" Joe pleaded, reaching over to cover the girl's mouth. He felt her sticky lipstick press against his palm. "Look, can you just, please, maybe, keep it a... secret?"

Rini smiled into his hand. When he didn't pull away, she darted her tongue out, licking him and he pulled away with a yelp. "I'm not a _total_ bitch, you know. If you're not out, I won't say anything to anyone I know."

Joe looked around, finally wiping his hand on the ankle of his slacks. "I... I appreciate that."

"Look," Rini said, pulling a compact out of her bag and looking at her smudged lips. "Why don't we just forget this happened?"

Joe nodded, too embarrassed to speak. He stood awkwardly, bowing to Rini in silence as she pulled out a tube of lipstick, the balm nothing more than a red nub. She was focused completely on her makeup as Joe retreated, running to the bus stop like the coward he was.

* * *

The next day, Joe stood at his locker again. Nana was talking again, a steady stream of words.

"... so then, I told him to shove it up his ass and have a gods-blessed day." She laughed, an adorable giggle that turned into a snort. She blushed as Shinjiro laughed, a soft chuckle that was his uproarious laughter. "Oh, hush, you."

Joe was biting his lip, trying to keep from laughing. He kicked off his slippers and reached for his shoe locker. Nana was beating on Shinjiro's shoulder, playfully berating him when she paused, saying suddenly, "Oh, hey, Joe. I heard something funny in class today."

"What was it?" Joe asked. He opened his locker, yelping as a torrent of envelopes poured out onto his feet. "Oh, Gods!"

Nana squealed, forgetting what she was going to say. "Love letters! Geeze, Joe, what'd you do to Rini to get so many all of a sudden?"

"I didn't do _anything_ ," Joe insisted, reaching down to grab a handful. His name was etched on each one of them, different inks, different handwritings. He debated opening them, wondering what each one said. Nana, however, had no problems with ripping open the flaps despite her boyfriend's irritation.

"'I've always wanted to say...' 'I know you don't know me...'" Nana read off each one, eyes scanning the kanji. "'Love... Inoji'? He's in my anatomy class. This one is from... Takamaru? I know him too. Hey, Joe – these are all from _boys_!"

"Rini promised she wouldn't say anything!" Joe yelped. Then he realized what he said, clasping his hand over his mouth. "Nana! Shinjiro! You two, you can't..."

Nana was too busy reading more letters to pay attention to his pleads, but Shinjiro nodded. "Don't worry, Joe. Nana may have a big mouth, but you know she's trustworthy."

Joe nodded. "I know, I know... But Rini..."

"Rini is a _total_ bitch," Nana spoke up, still reading letters. Joe reached out, snatching them away and she made a face at him. "Party pooper. She probably said something to Ayame, she's the biggest gossip in the school. But don't worry," she said, seeing the look on Joe's face. "It's not like any of us actually _talk_ to our parents about school gossip. You'll be safe."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains graphic violence.

_Maybe the sun's light will be dim_

_And it won't matter anyhow_

* * *

2005

Joe _still_ couldn't believe it. He'd seen them, several times since then. Izzy, his hand clasped gently in Tai's. He couldn't remember seeing the redhead so happy, nor the brunette so calm. It was a perfect match, he knew.

And he also knew that he would never experience that happiness for himself.

Where had Izzy found that courage, Joe often wondered. That shy little redhead, so terrified of his own emotions. How had he managed what Joe knew he could never do? Go to the boy he loved and lay his feeling bare, expose his soul to someone who could so easily destroy him?

He hadn't been there for it, though he'd heard about the display from Sora a few days later.

"They came up to us after school," she'd said, arms crossed. She couldn't meet Joe's eyes, not that he was looking at her anyway. He was too entranced by his shoes, chest feeling like it was caving in, and he knew no inhaler would help. "Said they had something important to tell us. Izzy stammered – I'd never heard him stammer before, you know – and we just, kinda looked at each other, me, Yolie, and Davis. Then Tai grabs Izzy and... _kisses_ him, right in front of us. Like, really deep. And we're supposed to _encourage_ this?"

It was nearly a year later, and the few times Joe had seen the couple since then, he couldn't deny their happiness, as much as he wanted to. As much as he wanted Izzy to be miserable like he was. As much as he wanted to have company in his self hatred.

To take his mind off the loving couple, to shield himself from Sora's glares, to placate his father whose abuse was coming harsher and more frequently, he began to intern at a small, private clinic in Odaiba. Too young and inexperienced to deal with the patients, he was relegated to the back room to measure and dispense medication. He spent less time at cram school, less time at home where his mother continued to decline, her seizures coming more and more often. He spent more time hiding away from the world, from his emotions, trapped in an enclosed space with other doctors, filling prescription bottles for faceless names as his mentor slowly realized just how knowledgeable the boy actually was.

Even at school, he was pulling away from Nana and Shinjiro. He didn't speak to them, didn't tell them about the tumultuous rolling in his very soul. He hated that he hated Izzy's happiness. Hated the jealousy that built up in his mind day after day. Hated that, in the darkness of his locked room, when he found the courage to call Matt, just to listen to the sound of his voice, he only heard pain.

Suffering.

Drunken slurring.

The closures of the Digital Gates was painful for them all, sure, but Matt... He took it the hardest. Without Gabumon around to be the gentle reminder of calm friendship, the blonde had begun to spiral into despair. He lost control of his band, his life, even his romance.

Joe was used to the signs of abuse, of pain, so he was surprised when he saw Sora after her first Christmas anniversary. Bruising on the bridge of her nose, scabs on her cheeks and lips, defensive cuts on her forearms and handprints on her wrists. She turned in on herself, snapping and snarling at everyone. It didn't take long for her to begin complaining, accusing her now-ex-boyfriend of fighting, of abuse, even of rape.

Matt threw himself into an orgy of sex, of alcohol, and, if the rumors were true, of drugs. Every day, even at his school all the way in Juuban, Joe heard about the blonde's exploits. A new day, a new girl. Or guy. Or combination thereof.

Joe cursed under his breath. So, it wasn't that he terrified of being outed. He just, honestly, damnably, didn't love Joe. He would sleep with any random guy off the street, but he wouldn't turn to the one man who truly loved him? It made him sick.

So he closed himself off, like he usually did. He took care of his mother, put in his hours at the clinic, ignored the worried looks of Nana and Shinjiro. His father took the belt to him for any infraction, convinced that his sudden dedication to his studies was to cover up something terrible. It was almost laughable – that the more Joe did what Shou wanted, the worse his abuse.

It was raining that day. He was running to the subway that would take him to his latest cram school, covering his glasses from the droplets more than his head. The icy coldness was comforting on his upper arm where Joanne had miscalculated throwing a lit candle at her husband.

He tripped and stumbled, almost tumbling down the subway stairs as he slipped in a rapidly-growing puddle at the ticket booth. He snatched his ticket from the machine, shaking his head like a wet dog and almost flinging his glasses across the tunnel. Not too much longer and he would be in his cram school, safely away from the rain that was plotting to kill him.

It was then that he heard it. That voice, once so melodic and comforting, now raspy and pained.

"... stole her cigarettes. Joke's on her."

Joe swallowed hard, turning to look. Matt was standing there, gray trench coat giving off the smell of cigarettes with every movement, every animated flap of his arms as he chattered, _chattered_ of all things, at Izzy.

"Izzy! Matt!" he called, hoping the duo couldn't hear the sound of his heart breaking. One, so happy in his relationship, the other, so lost without his.

"Hello, Joe," Izzy greeted. There was a warmth in those black eyes, a look of such contentment that it was enough to make Joe sick with himself.

Matt just turned away, barely nodding his head in acknowledgment. It was obvious that he still wanted nothing to do with the lovelorn man approaching.

Joe swallowed the hurt, trying to remain their friends, trying to keep from losing everyone he'd once kept close. "You two getting out of the rain?"

"On our way back from a movie, actually," Izzy admitted. He gave a shrug, trying to hide the obvious wish that he had wanted to go with Tai. But the brunette was all the way across the city in Shibuya, living in the dormroom of an athletic high school he'd been accepted into a year early. Something about being kicked out of his house? Joe could barely keep up with his own life, much less the lives of his friends.

The redhead turned to Matt, trying to hide his worries under a simple statement, "I don't see the merits of people getting buried in a garden by their murderer."

But Matt either didn't realize or, more likely, care about his short friend's troubles, lamenting loudly over a clap of thunder, "The man was _insane_ , Izzy. That's all that mattered."

The blonde shoved his hands in his pockets, fumbling with something inside. He blinked heavily, shaking his head as Joe spoke, "I got lucky, I just barely made it in time for the train and now I get to see you two." Joe tried to remember what Mat had always been into, before they'd fallen out of contact. "How have you been, outside another bad slasher film?"

"Well..." Izzy glanced at Matt apologetically before admitting, "I wanted to spend the day with Tai, but he said he doesn't have time. Ever since he got that scholarship, I haven't really spent time with him..." He blushed, seemingly realizing just how candid he was being. "I'm proud, though – I know he has to do this."

Joe glanced at Matt, but he refused to speak. "I'm doing well in school," he admitted. Izzy looked to him, a knowing light in his eyes. He would never forget that conversation outside Merston High's gates. "But the internship I'm doing feels like having a full-time job."

" _He's_ makin' you intern this early?" Matt snapped suddenly, loudly, voice drowned out as the train approached with a roar of metal.

Joe shrugged, ignoring the slight slurring. Surely the blonde was just a little tired from the late movie showing. "I can handle it," he defended. "I enjoy it because I get to work hands on."

Matt grumbled under his breath, something about another person's hands being somewhere. Joe ignored him to continue, "I _enjoy_ it," he pressed as Matt scoffed. "It's easier than listening to lectures for eleven hours a day, at least."

The train stopped with a great hiss, a voice calling something indistinct over the speaker with an overpowering crackle.

"Ah," Izzy said softly, scared to get between the two boys. "My train is due. I need to excuse myself. Later, Matt. Good seeing you, Joe."

Izzy bowed, quickly abandoning the two. Matt turned away, raising one hand in a half-assed wave, more like he was trying to rid himself of Izzy as quickly as possible. Joe frowned, seeing the telltale yellowing of his nails. He was barely sixteen, there was no way he could get hold of cigarettes...

"Are you sleeping?" Joe asked suddenly, worry biting at his chest. "Eating? You look pale."

Matt sighed. Joe knew the blonde barely slept in the first place, and the nicotine couldn't possibly help. "I'm fine, Joe. Really."

"Are you going home to an empty house again?" Joe asked. _And a full bottle of liquor?_

"Are you goin' home to an abusive dick ag'in?" Matt snapped before looking away.

Joe inhaled sharply. So, there it was. The first time it had been said out loud, used as an insult to undercut his own concern. That was just as well, he figured. His flesh served no other purpose than to display the bruising, the wounds of his father's anger, never again to be touched with those rough, dishwater hands ever again. He swallowed the lump in his throat, adjusting the strap of his bookbag so it relieved the pressure on his burn.

"You were hanging out with Izzy," he said softly. Even spoken out loud for the entirety of the subway station to hear, there would be no help. Nothing would ever stop his father's rage. "... That's good..."

"He had nothing better t' do," Matt said softly, slowly. " _I_ had nothing better to do."

_Aside drink alone?_ Joe thought. If he couldn't help himself, he could try and help the blonde swaying before him. "I didn't come here to lecture you, I promise." Joe smiled, trying to entice Matt into their old friendship, anything to keep him from continuing to destroy himself. "Let's just talk."

"About what?" Matt spat, a dark chuckle rising out of him. "I know your game, Joe. I'm sorry I didn't return your call."

Joe frowned, confused. What was he talking about? "The one... from two months ago? Matt, I don't even remember why I had to call you."

"I can take a guess," Matt growled, finally removing the pack of cigarettes from his pocket he'd been toying with the whole time.

Joe wanted to say something about Matt's health, about his lungs and various other organs he was slowly shutting down. But he could only feel the terror from that day, rising up in his mind. His mother had snapped the lock off Joe's room, screaming at him to run from whatever had set her off. Shou had been walking in the door at that moment and without a pause, he'd swung his briefcase at Joanne. The woman, usually so resilient and strong had collapsed instantly into a still heap that even her husband took a weary step back. The blood was dripping onto the floor, pooling around her exposed skull. Joe had turned to his father, demanding to know what had happened. Shou had shook his head, mouth opening wordlessly.

"She needs to go to the hospital!" Joe had demanded, feeling the bile rise in his gut at the stench that was filling the apartment.

"No!" Shou snapped. He raised his bloody briefcase, threatening his son who flinched away quickly, backing down like usual. "Fix her – _now_! Get the needle and thread from the bathroom then clean her up. I can't have another bloodstain in the wood."

Joe remembered his hands turning red, being able to see the blood under his nails for days afterward as he stitched his mother's flesh together. She was shaking and blinking, on the verge of consciousness, and Joe remembered her whispering over and over, "Save him... Save him, please..."

He'd called Matt that night, sobbing, begging the blonde to rescue him from this Hell he'd lived for seventeen years. But Matt, still lost no matter who he spoke to, had been drunk. The sounds of physical ecstasy drowned out by the throbbing bass of a stranger's stereo quickly reminded Joe of his place in life. _He_ wasn't the one to be comforted, _he_ was the one that helped others. The phone had slipped from his hands, blood still to this day smeared across the screen as he sobbed.

Joe shook his head, dragging himself to the just as miserable present. "Why are you bombarding my father right now?" He thought of Malcolm, the tall strong man who looked at his son with all the same love Gabumon had ever shown. "Did yours piss you off?"

"What the hell do you care?" Matt growled, and Joe knew he'd hit a nerve.

"Oh, what did he do?" Joe glared, his own hopelessness turning into anger, trying to see what pleasure the blonde derived from it. "Care?"

"I thought you didn't come here to fight?" Matt said, angrily spitting smoke in Joe's face.

The blue haired man waved the scent away, not wanting to have to use the last of his inhaler that night. He coughed and clarified, "I didn't come here to _lecture_ you. If I have to fight with you to talk some sense into you, then I will," he threatened. "Trust me, I've seen Tai make it work."

Matt flinched suddenly, and Joe bit his tongue. He'd said the wrong thing, again, and now he was going to be left alone. Left completely and utterly alone.

"Let's... not talk about him," Matt mumbled, taking a drag on his cigarette almost shamefully.

Joe looked to his feet, unable to meet those eyes he'd surely made upset. "I know... things aren't going well. You know I'm worried, is all."

There was a moments silence in which Joe was certain he'd lost the other boy in again. And then, "Yeah, I know... That's your job description." He flicked away ash, half his cigarette gone in a white and gray puff. "I didn't mean to snap, you know me."

"If I couldn't take that temper of yours, what kind of friend would I be?" Joe asked quietly, smiling softly at his shoes. Friend. Of course that was all he could ever _hope_ to be.

"Honestly," Matt began and Joe looked up. Honesty was something severely lacking with the blonde right now. "I'm just worried about you, too. Your father pushing you too hard and all. Don't think I can't see that purple skin near your wrist or the strain in your eyes." Joe looked away as Matt offered softly, "My apartment's free right now. You can come by you know..."

Joe wanted to leap on the offer. Wanted to find himself alone with the blonde just like he had when he was eleven. Wanted to try and right everything that had gone so wrong so quickly. But the burn on his shoulder throbbed and he shook his head. "I can't tonight. If I'm not back after cram school, my father will..." He shuddered and gave a tiny smile he knew Matt could see right through. "Maybe tomorrow?"

"Sure," Matt spat and Joe knew he'd screwed up again. Tonight had been his only chance and he'd blown it. Another train pulled up, dousing them in another angry hiss. "That's your train, isn't it?"

"Aren't you headed the same way?" Joe asked, a feeling of desperation setting in. He couldn't let it end this way – not again! But Matt just began walking away and Joe knew he had a choice. He could go to cram school, just as his father wanted, and let the blonde move on to his own self-destruction. Or...

Or he could help. For once in his life, he could reach out to another human being and try and change his life.

Joe turned from the train, running out into the rain after the drenched, drunken blonde he hated to love.

* * *

"What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?" Shou screamed. He grabbed Joe by the throat, bloody knuckles making it hard to get a good grip and threw his son against the wall with all his might.

Joe could hear his skull crack as he collapsed to the floor, but he didn't have time to worry about internal bleeding. His father's foot was coming down on him, over and over. Shou couldn't control his shaking long enough to remove his belt, instead hitting Joe with whatever he could reach.

"You let that... That... God _damn_ foreigner in here! That filthy fucking half-blood traitor! And you let him do _this_ to me?!"

Joe was covering his face with his arms as Shou grabbed a medical textbook off the shelf. It was thick and heavy, a diagnostic dictionary older than Shin, but the edges were still sharp. Joe bit his tongue until he tasted blood, trying to keep from screaming as Shou brought the book down over and over, gouging deep into the flesh of his son's forearms. Blood was spraying the walls, though who it was coming from, neither could tell.

Matt had certainly done a number on Shou's face.

"How the _fuck_ do you think I can explain this? Huh? _Huh_ , you little shitstain!? My fucking nose is _broken_!" Shou acted like he meant to fling the book onto Joe's chest, the blood making it slip from his gasp.

Joe was wheezing, coughing. Asthma gripped his chest and he curled in on himself pathetically. He wanted to reach for his inhaler. He wanted to give up and die.

Shou slipped in a puddle of Joe's blood, screaming at the top of his lungs. He didn't care what the neighbors thought, he only cared that some bleached-blonde punk had called him out.

He looked at the pathetic mess on the floor, sobbing and choking on his own blood. All the man could see was red, white hot rage filling him. He unwillingly recalled the blonde's words, that damned voice echoing in his skull.

" _You're a pathetic excuse for a human being!"_

"I'm not pathetic," Shou hissed. He drew his foot back, kicking forward as hard as he could. "I am _not_ pathetic! You are! _God_ _fuck you, you're pathetic_!"

Joe had been used to the pain in his arm. The twinge that made him ache constantly. It had been with him for weeks now, ever since Shou had twisted his wrist for smudging the ink on his homework. He was pretty sure it had been a fracture, a hairline crack in his ulna. But as his father's bloody boot swung at him, he heard it. The crack. The disgusting crunch.

Joe couldn't stop the scream, the belch of blood he'd been trying to hold back as that fracture split his bone in two. He could feel it, tearing the muscle, pressing disgustingly against the skin. His eyes rolled back, glasses already across the floor. The pain was overwhelming and he twitched, he pulsed.

He fell into a seizure, broken body jerking helplessly on the floor.

Shou reached down, grabbing his son's head and holding him as still as he could. He didn't care about the boy's pathetic life any more than he cared about the woman bound and drugged out of her mind in the bedroom. What he cared about was what would happen when the neighbors inevitably called the police. What they would say when they opened the door to a potential crime scene.

Shou spit on Joe's face, the saliva mixing with the blood as it dripped down his cheek. As the body in his arms stilled, he grabbed the sheet his wife often used from the couch. He wrapped it around the still figure and hoisted it over his shoulder. The sheet was already covered in his wife's blood, and he knew it would catch anything the boy would end up spewing before long.

Shou moved quickly, hurrying down the hallway. He couldn't let the neighbors catch him before he could clean himself up.

* * *

Joe ended up coming to in the car. He struggled to sit up, blood drying and making the sheet stick to his flesh. His arm throbbed, but he felt like he'd been drugged, his own body flooding him with as many endorphins as it had.

"D... Dad...?" he mumbled, tongue aching in ways he'd never thought possible. He could taste blood, feel it sticking to his teeth that were all, thankfully, still in tact. "Wh-where are...?"

"Shut up," Shou hissed. He made a sharp turn and Joe almost vomited. "Just shut the _fuck_ up. When you get back, believe me, you will _never_ set foot out of that room again – not without my permission! You will never so much as _think_ of that goddamned foreigner, do you hear me?!"

Joe took a shuddering breath. He tried to push himself up, sobbing as his broken arm shifted in ways it was never meant to move. "What h-h-happened?"

"You were mugged," Shou said, car screeching to a halt. "Get the fuck out, _now_!"

Joe jumped automatically, the words not even registering in his mind until he'd already poured himself out of the back seat, pooling on the side of the street in a bloody heap. His glasses were still missing, and he looked at the blurry building he'd been dumped at. His father's car – the neighbor's car, Joe realized as soon as he could think again – took off in a crunch of gravel as a nurse rushed out of the small ER: a free clinic that only druggies and prostitutes came to, Joe would learn over the next few days.

"My God," the man whispered. "What happened to you, son?"

"I... I was..." Joe swallowed the blood that was still oozing into his mouth. "I was mugged... A stranger gave me a ride here..."

"What's your name?" the nurse asked. A stretcher was being pulled up, tired doctors used to the sight of used product being dumped on their stoop.

"It's... I'm..."

Joe tried to think of his father. How much it would destroy the man's career to be one to do this to a child, _his_ child.

"Takaji Minamoto..."


	7. Chapter 7

_If morning's echo says we've sinned_

_Well, it was what I wanted now_

* * *

2005:

"Sweet, merciful, Jesus _Christ,_ Joe!" Nana screamed as way of "welcome back". "What happened to you? We thought you'd died – you _look_ like you died!"

It was a few days later when Joe had been dismissed from the hospital. A bored looking doctor, more interested in the heavily pregnant prostitute threatening suicide on the other side of the curtain, had told him to avoid drugs for at least a few weeks and to make sure his cast didn't rot away from exposure. He'd been about to say something about staying sober long enough to schedule a checkup in a month when the hooker ripped out her IV needle and tried to stab a nurse.

In the confusion, Joe had grabbed a set of scrubs (he had no idea what happened to his old clothes, drenched in blood as they were), and slipped from the bed. It was a struggle to change, his right arm bound in an off-white cast, but he managed to get decent enough to leave the ER just as the police began showing up.

He'd walked home, having no wallet and being unable to take the train or even the bus, having to stop and rest every chance he got. He was tired, sweaty, sunburnt as he found his apartment complex, the stitches in his arm, his face, his chest itching. His hands shook as he grabbed his doorknob and he could barely find the strength within to turn it, much less continue to stand. He took a breath, wondering if the locks had been changed on him, too. Was his mother even still there? Or had she been cast aside as well?

The door had swung open on him so suddenly, he almost fell over. Shou looked down the bridge of his bandaged nose at him, saying simply, "Your blood stained the walls. I want you in here to repaint them. Now."

He'd then grabbed Joe by the hair, dragging him in the apartment. There was a bucket of paint on the floor next to a horrifyingly dark spray that covered the hallway from top to bottom. There was a splotch of wet paint in the middle of it where someone had attempted to start covering it up and given up. Knowing he wouldn't be given a chance to rest, Joe grabbed the brush with a shaking hand and began his task.

Despite almost passing out twice and almost busting the stitches in his good arm, Shou continued to stand behind him, making him paint the whole wall until three in the morning. The overwhelming stench of wet paint had been enough to trigger Joe's asthma, and he had to beg and plead with the stoic man before a half-empty inhaler was found in the kitchen. When the deed was done, Shou kicked his son, corralling him to his room where dust had already begun to gather on his things. The deadbolt was put in place and Joe finally collapsed, aching down to his very soul and he passed out quickly, still clutching his inhaler.

He was locked in his room for four days after, let out only to clean himself under his father's watchful eye in case he decided to escape. It felt like he was back at Digitamamon's Diner, the way Shou even withheld food, leaving him to shake and shudder in his room every night. And the thought of the Digimon brought thoughts of Matt, and thoughts of Matt made memories of the attack come floating up through the barrier he tried to build to protect himself.

"Matt..." he sobbed into his pillow, listening to his mother screaming down the hall the first night as Shou tried to create another perfect son, a perfect copy of himself that wouldn't disobey like Joe did. "Gods damn you, Matt, I _hate_ you..."

Just when Joe was certain Shou was going to finish the job, kill him for being so useless, the deadbolt opened late one night and the man appeared.

"You're going back to school tomorrow. You've already been absent for too long, so make sure you get all the assignments you missed."

Joe just lowered his head and nodded, noticing the deep, bloody gouges in Shou's cheek where Joanne must have gotten a lucky scratch in. He'd probably broken her fingers again for that, Joe thought to himself as his father closed the door, locking it.

Going back to school meant that he thought Joe was well enough to be seen in public again, so he looked over himself. He used the tiny mirror he'd stashed away under his mattress to find all the stitches across his body and pulled on the black strings, setting them in a pile on his desk. He was held together well enough, and the sight of them would only arouse suspicion. A broken arm was hard enough to explain away – stitching even less so.

So it was the next morning, exhausted, aching, covered in tiny holes that left pinpricks of blood on his sheets, that Joe struggled to dress. He pulled on the almost unfamiliar uniform, broken arm throbbing. He wouldn't be given painkillers aside the few aspirin he could swipe from the bathroom, but he was used to the pain. His leg had been broken only a few years ago, after all.

No one on the bus said anything, adults averting their eyes as he passed and kids his own age ignoring the world around them. The familiar isolation gave him time to linger in his own mind, thinking of the blonde who had started this whole mess.

_Why?_ He thought, glaring out the window as the bus slowly rolled up to Merston High. _Why did you do those things? Say all that stuff? Then you don't even check in on me? Fine. That's fine – I don't need you, either. I'll stop loving you, too, you... you bastard!_

He grabbed his bag from where it sat at his feet, standing with a sway. He was starved and had forgotten to swipe a few yen from his mother's purse that morning. The gate was open still, students milling about and waiting for the warning bell to ring before they even thought of heading to classes. He stumbled once, righting himself with such concentration that it wasn't until her horrified screaming that Joe even noticed Nana waiting.

"I'm fine," Joe tried to reassure, but the brunette was shaking her head so forcefully that her butterfly clip almost flew off.

"No! I've been quiet for _too_ long now – I'm calling the cops!" Nana swore, digging in her bookbag for her cell phone.

"D-don't!" Joe yelped, reaching out with his good arm. His once-stitches were still bleeding, beading up with blood drops to stain his undershirt. "Nana, please!"

" _Look_ at you," Nana cried, and Joe could see the tears streaming down her cheeks. " _Look_ at what happened!"

"I-It's not what you think," Joe pleaded. "I was with my friend, Matt, and..."

"Matt?" Nana asked. "That drunk guy you made me meet?"

"He's not a drunk," Joe defended. Then he remembered his promise to himself to hate Matt. "Well, I mean, I guess he is. He's an asshole, you know. Recently, he's been – he used to not be..." Joe looked at Nana, who was still sniffling and beyond confused.

"Did _he_ do this?" Nana questioned, cell phone shaking in her hand. "Did he get high or something and beat you up?"

"N-no!" He thought, too late, that he should have said yes. "I was mugged. Out in Shinjuku."

"Why were you in Shinjuku?"

"I, I was... I was visiting my Dad."

"You _never_ visit your dad!"

"Well I was that day!"

"Stop lying!" Nana shrieked. She pulled on her hair and screamed wordlessly at him, a group of students pointing at her and giggling. "Just tell me what happened – the Gods' honest _truth_!" She wiped her eyes roughly, flinging tears to the ground. "... Was it your father?"

"No," Joe said automatically.

"Was it Matt?"

"... No..." Joe took a breath that hurt his bruised ribs. "I was mugged. I promise."

Nana swallowed a sob, wiping her nose on her sleeve and shoving her phone back into her bag. "... Fine. Whatever."

She turned to leave just as the bell began to ring. Joe bit his lip, flinching at the pain in his tongue, before hurrying after her.

"Hey, Nana, where's Shinjiro?" he asked softly.

"Out sick at home," she replied with an indifferent shrug. Her worry for Joe had drained her too much. "He's been out a few days, but at least I know where _he_ is."

"Is he ok?" Worrying about others made it easy for duo to forget their own pain.

"I think so. I told him to go to the hospital, but he says it's just a cold." They walked to the shoe lockers, Nana glaring at Joe who was trying to remove his shoes without falling and breaking something else. "He's just as stubborn as you, you know."

"I've come to realize this," Joe said, adjusting his broken arm as best he could. The pain was becoming close to unbearable, and he tried desperately to distract himself. "How... How did you guys meet, anyway? I've known you for over a year now, and I still don't know."

Nana shrugged, reaching up to toy with her butterfly clip. She wasn't having even half the trouble Joe was and quickly put on her slippers. "We've been neighbors since before I can remember. Even when he were born, our cradles in the hospital were next to each other, if you believe my mom. We went to the same elementary, we were in all the same clubs, all that jazz. One day, we kissed on the playground – my dad was quick enough with his camera and he shows it to all my friends I have over. From then on, we just... were." She watched as Joe moved aside the love letters so he could reach his slippers and smiled dreamily, pushing aside her worry for her friend who would never admit to anything. "In fact, this clip? It was from his mother. He said that he didn't have enough money for a ring, so he gave this to me instead.

"What about you?" she asked suddenly. "Do you have anyone 'special' that you like?"

Joe blushed furiously, the rush of blood making him dizzy. "What?! No way. Not, not at all. That's a dumb idea, Nana."

"Really?" Nana smirked. "Not even that Matt boy who _didn't_ break your arm?" Her tone suggested she didn't believe him about anything.

"Of course not!" Joe shoved his shoes in his locker and grabbed the first letter he came across. "In fact, I like him so little, that I might just go out with this guy." He looked at it, the ink sparkling and green – not something he was sure he could handle at this point.

"Really?" Nana was starting to laugh.

"Oh, gods, no." He shoved the letter back in his locker, turning so they could go to class. "I don't think I can _ever_ go out with anyone." Nana quirked an eyebrow and Joe rushed to explain before she jumped to all the right conclusions again. "What I mean is, I'm just so... busy right now. I have school, and cram, and my internship. I'm too... too busy for a relationship. With anyone."

"Yeah, sure," Nana said.

She still didn't believe him.

* * *

Shinjiro came back to school the next day, and all of Nana's pent up worry flooded the poor young man.

"Your mom wouldn't let me see you yesterday, are you ok? Was it the cold, or a flu? Are you getting enough fluids?"

Nana was physically hanging off the stoic brunette, whining desperately at him. Shinjiro was attempting to reassure her while simultaneously trying not to fall over under her dead weight as he dragged her across the school.

"I'm fine," he reassured over and over. "I just needed some rest." He glanced at Joe, eying the cast Nana had spent the other day drawing all over with different colored gel pens. The young man had only barely escaped another beating by telling his father that his academic performance hadn't been effected.

"Ignore him," Nana demanded. "You know he's never gonna tell the truth about it."

"I _did_ get mugged," Joe insisted. "Outside Shinjuku."

"Then why didn't you call the cops?" The girl pouted. She was still clinging to Shinjiro's arm, and he flexed his tingling fingers.

"They wore masks!"

Nana stuck her tongue out at him before resuming doting on her boyfriend. Now Joe could see the affection in his dark eyes, the way a smile tugged at his lips as he kissed her butterfly clip. He could tell that they were meant to be together forever as she cuddled close to him before reluctantly parting ways with him at their classroom.

Despite Nana's continued worry, though she tried to hide it under false anger, Joe managed through the day all right. All around him he could hear whispers, excited classmates talking about the emerging pop idol. He tried to ignore them, focus on his studies until two names popped out at him.

Mimi.

And Matt.

He told himself it was ok to listen in. That just because he was mad at Matt didn't mean he had to ignore the rest of his friends. From what he could tell, alternating between paying attention to the two students talking behind him, the teacher's lecture, and Nana's inquisitive glares, The Teenage Wolves had gotten back together and were currently in the process of recording Mimi's debut CD.

He remembered, a long time ago, Mimi's voice waking ShogenGekomon. She'd been dazzling back then, back when he'd been forcing his eyes to wander, and he could only imagine the young woman she'd grown into. It made him realize, suddenly, just how little he'd seen the rest of the Children. Not since the closure of the Gates...

It wasn't until Nana began drawing on his cast again that he even realized classes were over for the day.

"Well?" she asked when he finally looked over at her. She had drawn a white rosebush the other day, and was now coloring the flowers in with a sparkling red. "You back with the living?"

"Nana...? I, uh," he glanced at the clock and then at his notepad, filled with notes he didn't remember taking.

"Ever since Minaru mentioned the Teenage Wolves in Anatomy, you've been completely out of it. It wouldn't happen to be because _Matt_ was the lead singer, now would it?"

Joe blushed and Nana smiled, switching out for a green pen to start a new bush. "Of course not – how can I convince you that I _don't_ like him?"

"You can start by taking that ridiculous mechanical seal off your keys." Nana giggled as he sputtered, trying to excuse the small, handcrafted gift. "All right, let's say I believe you. What was so enticing about Minaru, because even _Rini_ thinks he's gross."

"He was talking about another one of my friends, Mimi Tachikawa. Something about her recording a CD?"

"Really? _You_ of all people know Mimi?" Nana laughed and smudged the bush on accident. "And here I thought you were a complete and total nerd when it came to stuff like that?"

"Stuff like what, exactly?" Joe pouted, wiggling his fingers in irritation.

"Like, popular music and movies and, you know, _normal_ people stuff." Joe glared at Nana and she shrugged, putting up her pens. "I'm sure you remember a few years ago, before the Wolves broke up? On their last tour, Mimi was their backup singer and she landed a contract with Avex." She stood, and the pair began to walk out of the classroom. "They put her in a pop idol group called Sorrow Sea, but to be honest they weren't that good. Poor Mimi was the one totally carrying that trio. Well, then _they_ split up but Avex kept Mimi on as a solo, and I heard some rumors that she was going to put a CD out soon."

Shinjiro met them at the gate. He still looked pale, paler than he had that morning, but he assured Nana that he was all right. "Are you boring Joe again with all your celebrity gossip?"

"Of course not, I'm just catching him up on current events." Nana made a face at her boyfriend who rolled his eyes. "All right, fine Mr. Grumpy-pants. I'll stop informing Joe of his friend's lives and let him get to cram school."

"Actually, I have my internship all night tonight," Joe said. "A bit more fun than cram. Honest."

"Then hurry up," Shinjiro told him. "Your clinic is on the other side of the city, isn't it?"

"Yeah, and with this stupid thing," Joe lifted his cast as much as it would go and gave it a little wiggle, "I'm going to have a hell of a time changing into my scrubs. I'll see you guys later, ok?"

* * *

The head doctor of the clinic, Dr. Midori, was a tired old man, but very sweet. He didn't mind that Joe ran in late, huffing and puffing apologies. He just waved a wrinkled hand from his seat and gave a sweet smile.

"We've been slow today," he said, loud enough for the intern to hear as he changed from his school uniform to his scrubs. "Mrs. Nomoji picked up her prescriptions yesterday, and there's been no accidents all day."

Joe wiggled and flailed and finally put his shirt on over his cast, poking his head out of the small room. "What do you want me to do today, then?"

Dr. Midori sipped his coffee, enjoying the rare moment of peace in a busy clinic. "Go find Dr. Iruma and start on inventory. We need to place an order by ten tomorrow morning if we're low on anything."

As sweet as Midori was, Iruma was as much of a grump. He frowned at Joe when the boy showed up, looking pointedly at his watch. "Go in the back room," he said, not waiting for an excuse, "and count the suture packs. We're having inventory soon."

"Yes, sir!" Joe bowed obediently, hurrying to the small supply room. It was just big enough to fit him and his colorful cast, and he spent the next few hours, counting everything in all the closets and then counting them again. The clinic barely picked up, a few older women getting their medications, a young man being admitted with a laceration across the back of his hand, and a small child rushed in who had picked up a rock at the playground and attempted to swallow it. Dr. Midori had the stone sitting on his desk as a paperweight now, and Joe was proud of the old man.

"I couldn't have done it if you hadn't been there," Dr. Midori had said as he sanitized the souvenir. "You're very good at keeping patients calm, and that's very important in emergency situations like this one."

"It's just something I've always had to deal with," Joe had replied absently, watching the water running off the stone, deep red with a dark brown band running through the middle. "My parents, my brothers, my friends." He'd barely stopped himself before he said _"The Digimon."_

And now, as Joe counted the catheters for the third time, finally trusting himself enough to tally them on a clipboard balanced on his cast, he wondered if he should have said any of that. Dr. Midori was nice enough, but if he said anything too revealing, the man was obligated to report it. He sighed, wishing his father hadn't broken his dominant hand as he struggled to make his numbers perfect, just as the clinic doors burst open.

"Female, mid-teens," an EMT said as a stretcher was wheeled in. "Collapsed at her house, barely breathing, pule low."

"Any signs of trauma?" Dr. Iruma asked, rushing alongside, directing them to a room.

"None, possible exhaustion. A friend called her in."

Joe looked out the window of his supply closet. The EMT was running back to the ambulance, sirens sill blaring, and Dr. Midori rushed into the room, several nurses following. He tapped the end of his pen against his clipboard, careful not to hit his numbers, and wondered if he should run in as well. A quick glance at his watch told him he only had fifteen minutes left of his shift, and he needed to finish inventory before he left.

"Where is she? Where's Mimi?!"

That was Matt!

"Sir, I need you to calm down and -"

"Damnit, where the fuck is she?!"

"Sir, just -"

A sound Joe was all too familiar with, and Dr. Iruma yelped.

The clipboard clattered to the ground as Joe flew out of the closet. He ran down the hall, watching as two nurses struggled to hold Matt down. The blonde was thin and pale, dark circles under his eyes. Joe forgot all about his promise to hate the young man as he heard him sob, "You have to help her! She can't die!"

Dr. Iruma was rubbing his jaw, already swelling and beginning to bruise. He was glaring at Matt, and Joe knew as soon as he could move his mouth to speak, he would be yelling for the police and nothing would stop him.

"Matt!" Joe ran down the hall. The nurses holding the blonde almost fell over as he suddenly went limp. "Matt, what are you doing here? What happened?"

There was a moment where it seemed Matt had passed out. Then he lifted his head, eyes red from crying, from sleepless nights Joe knew all too well, and he whispered, "Joe... Joe, please..."

Dr. Iruma looked to the intern and Joe nodded at him, let him know it was ok. He reached out, touched Matt on the shoulder and said as gently as he could, "Matt, tell me what happened."

"I, I don't know... I was at her house and then I..." Matt shook his head, almost his whole body from side to side. "I turned around and she was on the floor. I didn't even fucking notice how tired she was, not at all. Some damned _friend_ I am..." He looked up suddenly, tears splashing on the floor. "I need to see her. I need to make sure that she's all right!"

"Matt, you can't go in there." Dr. Iruma growled and Joe tried to placate all involved, like he always did. "Matt, _Matt_!" The blonde finally looked _at_ him, instead of through him. "We could call the police right now, you know that. But if you apologize to Dr. Iruma, and _mean it_ , I'll go in there with her. I'll see how Mimi is, ok?"

Matt looked at the doctor, glared really, and grumbled quickly, "S-sorry, man." He then turned to Joe again, those blue eyes large and begging, " _Please_!"

Dr. Iruma rubbed his jaw a moment longer, finally sighing. "Go, Kido. I'll keep an eye on him."

Joe hurried into the room before the doctor could change his mind. Mimi was in the bed, hooked up to an IV. There was a respirator nearby, but she seemed safe for now. She had her head back on the pillow, but when the door opened, she looked over. Her hair, pink once more, was fanned out over the pillow and she was in a matching pink nightgown. She blinked heavily, breathing a bit labored, but gave a sad smile when she saw her friend.

"Mimi," Joe pulled his lips into a grin, trying to reassure her as best she could. "You're awake..."


	8. Chapter 8

_And if we're victims of the night_

_I won't be blinded by the light_

* * *

2007

Joe leaned back in his chair, stretching with a long yawn. His arm still twinged with pain every so often, and it had healed fairly straight, but if he ran his thumb over it, he could feel a mild bump on the bone where his father had thrown him against the wall in the last few weeks of healing, jarring it just so. He set his glasses aside and rubbed his tired eyes, accidentally smearing ink across the bridge of his nose.

Down the hall, locked in her own bedroom, he could hear his mother still screaming at the top of her lungs. She'd begun that morning in her usual depressed state, comatose on the couch as Joe left for school. When he'd come back after cram school, bookbag filled with college mock-exams, she was pacing in the living room, mumbling under her breath. Right as he set his bag down in his room, as he was contemplating sneaking in a phone call to Cody to congratulate him on entering middle school, Joanne had screamed. Despite the thick walls, Joe knew the neighbors could hear her.

He had run from his room and almost into one of her fists. She was flailing, yelling at something on the wall that only she could see.

"Mom," he'd pleaded. "Mom, please calm down!"

Joanne looked to her son, grabbing his shoulders almost painfully. "You have to help him! It's going to happen!"

"Mom..." Joe sighed. This far gone, she would probably be locked in his father's room all night until she passed out or Shou knocked her unconscious. "Please be quiet."

Joanne just looked at her son, eyes burning into his, and she warned him desperately, "When the time comes, and the time will _always_ come – time is eternal and flowing and it goes in circles sometimes – you have to help Gomamon! He needs you – now, now, _now_!"

Joe bit his tongue. He hated when his mother spoke of the Digimon, as though they were still able to see each other. He'd tried to tell her that they didn't exist, that she was making them up, but she always surprised him with her knowledge of ones even _he'd_ never seen. Then, he'd tried to tell her the Gates were closed and they would never be able to come back to the real world, but she still spoke of them as though they were merely in the next room.

"Mom, Gomamon's gone, remember? For years, now..."

"No!" Joanne shook her head harshly, reaching up to grab her frizzy blue hair and rip it from her scalp. "No, he has an egg! Blue and stripes! He's protecting the, the penguins from the p-plums!"

Joe grabbed her arms, yelling loud enough to be heard over her delusions, "Mom, did you take your pills this morning? I gave them to you, don't tell me you spit them out again."

"Poison! Your bastard father gives me poison!" She looked at him, sobbing in terror with dry eyes. "You need to help me!"

"You need to help _yourself."_ Joe sighed, letting his mother go so she could resume her pacing. "Mom, just take the pills. They'll make you feel better, like they always do."

"Not better, never better..." Joanne looked at the bloody strands of hair twined in her fingers, wondering where they'd come from. "There is no help for me, but you must help. You have to help yourself." She looked through Joe, breath hitching, hyperventilating. "You, you're s-so tiny, now. But the, the penguin, it eats f-f-fish and it helps-s everyone."

"Mom, shit!" Joe grabbed Joanne as she collapsed, leaning heavily against him. He struggled, still nothing but elbows and knees even at seventeen, as she gasped for air. He sat her on the couch and grabbed his inhaler. The medication was running low, but there was enough to force into her lungs to calm her down. For a moment, she sat there and just breathed, and Joe thought she would be ok.

Then the door had opened, Shou stepping inside with a weary sigh, and Joanne had begun screaming, wordless peals of terror and rage. She tried to stand, but Joe held her down. He would have put his hand over her mouth, but she'd almost bitten through one of Shou's fingers that way a few years ago.

"What's wrong with you?" Shou snapped, yelling only partially to be heard over his sick wife. "I thought I told you to make sure this doesn't ever happen again!"

"I'm sorry," Joe pleaded, wrapping his arms around his mother to keep her from flailing. "She was fine a few moments ago."

"You're not doing it right – you've _never_ done it right." Shou grabbed Joe and flung him to the floor. Joanne yelped as her husband brought his fist down on the side of her skull, dizzying her enough so that he could grab her by her tender hair and drag her down the hallway. He tossed his wife inside, the bolt shutting home, and turned to glare at Joe.

"Get up, you lazy bastard – you're almost as bad as _her_." Shou watched as his son clambered to his feet, looking to the floor like he always should when around his father. "You will be graduating high school in a few weeks, and I find you out here, dillydallying with your mother?! Have you spoken with the college yet about pre-med?" Before Joe could respond, Shou made a face. "Of course you haven't because you're as useless as her. You _will_ speak with them tomorrow, understand?"

"Yes, sir," Joe had breathed. Shou wouldn't care that Joe had already spoken with the college about his coursework as well as being able to take the time to shadow the doctors at the JFCR hospital in Tokyo. He would inform his father tomorrow and accept the beating for his tardiness just like he always did. But for now, he would continue to study for his final exams, the last ones he would take in his high school career.

* * *

"It's true," Nana insisted. "I saw him – at the library. Rini was there and she can back me up."

It was after school, and Joe's cram school had announced that its classes would be beginning late all week due to building maintenance, so he was waiting in the courtyard with Nana and Shinjiro.

"You can say it all you want, and you know I don't trust Rini anymore," Joe told her, "but I refuse to believe it. Matt, _studying_? Are you sure there wasn't a half-naked _person_ under the table?" He wasn't still bitter, not at all.

"I talked to him," Nana pouted, clinging to Shinjiro. He'd been coughing more often, staying home sick so much he almost wasn't able to graduate. It had been enough to make Nana never leave his side when she could help it, worrying herself sick in her classes and study sessions. "He had all these books about space and bettering himself and stuff like that. I think he means it. He wanted me to apologize to you for him."

"Well, he can take his apology and shove it up his -"

"There he is!" Nana pointed to the gate and Joe turned with a grimace.

The blonde man stood nervously to the side of the open gate, one hand gripping the bar tight enough to turn his knuckles white. Joe hated to admit it, but he looked just as beautiful as he always had in a dark blue dress shirt, black slacks, and even his school shoes instead of the clunky rock-star boots he used to wear. He had brushed his hair to shiny gold, and styled it in the way that always made Joe swoon. The blue haired man wanted to turn away, to ignore the flash of hurt in Matt's eyes that made him physically withdraw from the gate, but he couldn't. Whether it was Nana's hushed insistence, Shinjiro's silent encouragement, Matt's kicked-puppy expression, or even his own unrequited love for the man, Joe set his shoulders and approached.

"What do you want?" Joe snapped, trying to keep from falling into his usual bout of caring that would inevitably leave him heartbroken.

"Oh, uh... H-hey, Joe," Matt stuttered. He reached up, rubbing his shoulder awkwardly. "I, well, you look... You look good."

Joe pursed his lips, trying not to blush. "Nana told me you were sorry, and I'll admit that you dressing up _looks_ legit, but you'll forgive me if I think it's all an act, won't you?"

Matt swallowed harshly, looking to the ground. Joe cursed at himself, seeing the beginnings of tears before he turned away. The blonde's breath hitched and he shivered, finally turning away to cough up phlegm and tar and all the nicotine he'd been inhaling since he was fifteen. Joe made a face at the noise, at the glob that Matt embarrassedly spit into the bushes.

"What?" Joe demanded, feeling himself wanting to give in, to take care of the blonde like he'd promised he always would when he was young and stupid. "What do you want from me this time?

"Joe, I... I want..." Matt breathed as deep as he could, set his shoulders and, with cheeks burning, he asked, "Will you tutor me?"

"I-I'm sorry?" Joe yelped. He'd never expected to hear those words come from the blonde, not after all this time.

"I fell behind in most of my classes - all of them, really - and I need..." Matt glanced at Joe, fear dancing in his eyes. "I need help. A lot of it."

"No." Joe shook his head and took a step back. He had to remind himself, over and over, that he hated Matt. He hated the blonde's eyes and his voice and the gentle soul hidden under a terrible childhood trauma. He _had_ to hate Matt, otherwise he would only let himself get hurt again. "N-no. I'm not... I'm not doing this all over again. You only come to me when _you_ need something. I'm tired of giving you everything I have just for you to just throw it all away."

Joe turned away, for once feeling content with his anger. Like he'd finally done the right thing. Then he heard Matt whisper softly, brokenly, "I understand..."

Joe hesitated for just a moment, for a tiny stumble of a step. He couldn't go back on his word now, not after all that. He had to be firm, to keep his word. Otherwise he'd give into himself, wrap the blonde in his arms and kiss him until they were both breathless. Then he heard the shuffling of feet, the curse of a student passing by as Matt shoved him, running off down the street.

"What was that?!" Nana demanded as soon as Joe approached. "He came to you for help, didn't he? And what did you say to the poor boy?"

"I told him the truth," Joe insisted. "That I don't believe him and that he needs to leave me alone whenever _he_ need a pickup."

Nana let go of Shinjiro only so that she could begin beating on Joe's shoulder with both her tiny fists. "You, you... you butthole! He was counting on you!"

"And I'm tired of it! It's always been like that – he comes to me for help one day, then he's boozing and, and fucking and gods' know what else the next!" Joe shrugged Nana off, turning away. "He always comes to me first..."

"What are you going to do, then?" Shinjiro asked, the question more of a demand.

"What else?" Joe sighed. It was time for him to go to his cram school now. "I'll call him tonight, and apologize and let him know I'll tutor him."

* * *

Joe sat in the library, looking at his watch and tapping his foot. Matt wasn't late, but it didn't stop Joe from being impatient. He thought to himself, like he had all day, wondering if he should have agreed to this at all. He should have sent Matt to someone else, anyone else. He shouldn't have agreed, practically begged, the blonde to meet him.

Joe flipped through the algebra book in front of him, wondering outloud, "What am I doing here...?"

"Waiting for me, I hope...?" came Matt's sudden whisper, making Joe jump. "Sorry!"

Joe looked up, wanting to glare, but only able to melt. Once again, Matt had groomed himself past presentable almost to flaunting, abandoning his ripped and stained shirts for something semi-professional, his dirty jeans covered in others' fluids for neutral slacks. "You're..." Joe looked at his witch to try and hide his blushing cheeks. "You're on time."

"I wanted to be here early," Matt told him, awkwardly taking the chair next to Joe. He looked at all the books, spread out over the table to the librarian's displeasure. "But my dad got home early and I wanted to catch up because you, you know we haven't talked and I'm trying, I'm _really_ trying now, and -"

"Stop, stop." Joe smiled as Matt looked at him sharply, worriedly. "You're sounding like me, and it's getting freaky."

Matt blinked before giving a tiny smile, as though unused to the expression.

"Ok," Joe took a breath and grabbed his pen, glad to see Matt do the same. "Now you're going to tell me every subject you're behind in, and how far you are."

"Well, I'm making a..." Matt ticked his fingers off for each class: "fifty-one in literature, a fourty-five in history, a thirty-two in social studies, a ten in math. Oh, and an eighty-nine in art."

"A _ten_ in math?" Joe could faint. "H-how many classes have you missed?"

"The principal told me the only way I can skip another day and not be kicked out is if they see my death certificate."

"For the love of..." Joe removed his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "And you only have your senior year left?!"

"And the rest of this one," Matt told him helpfully.

Joe sat back with a deep sigh. "This is too much... I don't think I can handle all these subjects on my own."

Matt frowned, running his pen along the margin of his notebook, doodling music notes and Punimons in the margins. "I understand, you know. You've already done so much, you don't have to..."

"I said 'all of them'," Joe said. "I'll talk to Izzy. I can help you with Social Studies and Lit. I'll convince Izzy to help you with Math and History. We'll work out a schedule, and gods help me if you skip _any_ of it. The second I see you start to slack off, I'm done – got it?"

Matt nodded excitedly, a warm glint in his eyes that Joe hadn't seen since the Digital World.

Maybe... Maybe this wasn't such a mistake, after all.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains graphic violence.

_Just call me angel of the morning, Angel_

_Just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby_

* * *

2011

It was a simple mistake.

One single, stupid mistake.

Just like every other one he'd ever made.

He'd been so excited, calling Mimi to congratulate her on getting her GED. He'd waited until his father had gone to bed and his mother had passed out on the couch. He'd pulled his ancient cell phone out from under his mattress, the hinges beginning to rust, the buttons only working half the time, and he'd dialed as silently as he could.

"I'm so proud of you," he had told her. When he could barely hear her laugh, he'd turned up the volume on his phone. There was only one speaker on the thing, so he wasn't too worried about the noise. "You worked so hard ever since you quit Avex."

"'Quit' my ass," Mimi had giggled. "Don't sugar coat it, Joe. Those bastards fired me the second I stopped being a teenager. And I wouldn't have had to work as hard as I did if I hadn't been an idiot and thought being famous was more important than school. Did you know that jerk-off Evin kept all that money I made? Said I _owed_ Avex for everything they put into my career. Well, believe me, I'll show him!"

"Oh, and just how are you going to do that?" Joe stretched wearily. Despite still having a year of school left, the study guide for his pre-med finals was already beginning to fall apart at the spine.

"I don't know," Mimi sighed and Joe heard her flop back on her bed. He'd heard through Nana that after the woman had been dropped from the label, she'd moved back into her parents' home. "I've been watching a lot of movies and I _know_ I can out-act most of these chicks."

"Just know that whatever you decide to so, we'll all support you," Joe had told her. "You always did for us, remember?"

"Oh, God, do _not_ remind me of that disaster of a party," Mimi whined, sounding like her nine year old self for a moment.

"It wasn't _that_ much of a disaster. It got us all talking again, didn't it?"

"You're right. I _am_ amazing, aren't I?" Mimi had yawned, not used to nights as late as Joe usually kept. "I'm sleepy, too. Good night, Joe."

"Night, Mimi."

And with that, Joe had put his phone in it's usual place under his pillow and had gone to bed. He hadn't thought anything more of it, not for the rest of the night, not when he woke up, and not when he went to the hospital to begin another day of shadowing Dr. Moroka. The only time he even gave his phone a passing thought was when he was on his lunch break, wondering if he should call Nana to check up on Shinjiro. The last time he'd seen the man he was pale and coughing, claiming he was recovering from the flu and avoiding Nana's eye when she asked if it was the same "flu" he'd had last month.

But the thought passed quickly when he watched the resident neurosurgeon remove bits of skull from a patient's brain without harming the delicate tissue more than it had been, the doctor tsking afterward about helmet safety when riding a motorcycle. He knew his father was expecting him to become a vascular surgeon just as he was and his father before him and his father before that, but Joe couldn't help but be drawn to brain surgery, the scared whispers of a lovely blonde boy still echoing in his mind even twelve years later.

" _My mother... they said she had tumors. On her brain. And that was why she..."_

He thought, privately to himself and none other, that if he could have helped back then, if he could help even one child _now_ to never have to live through that...

But his father would never accept it. He would become a heart surgeon and there would be no other path for his life to take. Except for one...

But that wouldn't happen, he knew. His father had invested too much time into him, too much money, at this point it would be a waste to kill his son. At twenty-three, he'd surpassed his brothers in continuing to live under Shou's oppressive rule with only the mildest of night terrors and self-tended injuries. Shou had even reigned in his temper somewhat, making sure to stop before he sent Joe to the hospital anymore. So he felt safe enough that, while he would still be hurt, he would continue to live.

He was tired when he left the hospital, ready to be locked in his room for the night. He put his coat on the rack and kicked off his shoes. Joanne was sitting on the couch, not manic, not depressed, lost somewhere in between. By the end of the night, she would either be tied, screaming, to the bed or in a silent lump on the floor, crying.

"Mom?" he called anxiously. "Are you ok?"

But she couldn't hear him. She wouldn't until her medicine kicked in.

He set his bag down and took a step towards her. "Mom...?"

She blinked heavily, trying to find herself through her drugged fog.

Joe stepped forward. Usually if he got to her in this state, he could bring her to some semblance of normalcy, for a while at least. He reached out for his mother, to help her like he had his whole life, when a cold hand fell on his wrist, gripping him hard enough to crack the joint. Joe jerked, held in place by his father's grasp.

"What... is... _this_?" Shou asked, each word dripping with acid. In his other hand, the one not threatening to re-break his son's bones, was the cell phone. That damned machine he'd had hidden his whole life. That one piece of freedom he had never been allowed to have.

Joe's mouth opened, but he couldn't find words to explain. His father's glare behind his glasses was harsh enough that Joe could almost feel it burning into his skin. "It's, it's... a..."

Shou jerked his son, sending the man crashing to the ground. Joe's breath hitched, his chest tightened, and he knew he was going to have an asthma attack. Shou drew his foot back, sending it into Joe's ribs with all his might, as though trying to prevent his son from breathing ever again.

"Is _this_ how you repay me for everything I've done for you?!" Shou was screaming, already worked up into a rage. He had the phone in his hand, the old plastic cracking in his grip as he continued to kick. "How many times have you snuck around behind my back?" Joe curled in on himself, trying to breathe, trying to show he wasn't fighting back. "How many times have you disobeyed me?!" There was a crack and a strangled scream, but Shou continued to stomp. "What was it you've done without my knowing: drugs? Women? _Men_ like that Goddamned foreigner?! I've told you, over and over, I will _not_ accept disobedience!"

Joe was coughing blood, spitting something hard and chipped from his mouth, feeling something inside him leaking where it shouldn't. His chest was tight with asthma and he could feel vision growing dark. His father was still shouting, but all he could feel was his foot coming down over and over on his chest, his head, his arms, as though trying to break all his bones again. He was shaking, shuddering, trying to form words, apologies, _anything_ to stop this assault before he passed out and never woke again.

Just as he was certain this would be it, just as his brain began to struggle from lack of oxygen, he heard his father yelp, and the constant pain stopped suddenly. He looked through a red haze, blinking away the blood that was pouring into his eyes, and wondered if he was hallucinating.

Shou, such a towering, imposing figure in Joe eyes even at his age and height, was cowering away, taking a step back in surprise, in what could have been fear. He was shouting again, but it was being drowned out by a terrifying yowl, like that of a demonic cat. For a moment, Joe thought it really was a demon, from the depths of the Hell his father had turned his home into, shrieking and scratching and biting at the older man, _someone's_ blood dripping everywhere.

But the frizzy blue hair came into focus suddenly, the familiar flailing and inarticulate yelling filling his pounding head. Or could that have the door being pounded on?

It was Joanne, snapping into a manic state and throwing herself on her husband. Nails sliced the skin of his arms, teeth gnashing as she bit deep chunks of flesh, blood spewing from her mouth as she screamed.

"Fucker, f-f-fucker!" Joanne was crying, tears rolling down her face in pink streams. Shou had finally gotten over his shock was was trying to grab at her, blood making his wife slippery. "You get off him! Get off, get off! He, he, he's important – more imp-important than _you_! You and your poisons and the death that stinks on you!" Shou grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked and Joanne screamed, reaching out to dig her nails into his throat. "You're poisoning us! You monster, you fucker, you bastard!"

"Shut up!" Shou was screaming, over and over, trying to drown out his wife. He tossed her away, slamming her frail body into the wall and for a moment she was still. Thinking her finally gone, he reached down to grab Joe by the throat, the young man wheezing desperately. He wanted to beg for his inhaler, beg forgiveness for all the things he'd done and most of the things he hadn't. He wanted to tell his father to let his mother go, to not punish her for his mistakes. But then Shou began slamming the back of his head onto the floor, crushing his aching windpipe, still snarling, "Shut up! All of you, shut up!"

Darkness was overtaking Joe's vision, and he knew this was it. This was the mistake that would finally cost him his waste of a life.

* * *

The first thing he noticed, before he opened his eyes was the scent of bleach. The overpowering stench that destroyed everything in its path burned the inside of his nose and made his weak lungs ache. His lips quivered, and when he tried to wet them his tongue encountered a gap he hadn't had since he was seven. One of his teeth was missing, the new hole confusing to his already muddled mind.

His fingers twitched, sending a sharp pain up his arm, and he groaned. His eyes fluttered open and all around him was a white haze. He tried to breathe deep, but that only made him hurt more and he whined.

A shadow fell over him suddenly, an urgent noise filling his ears.

"...oe?! Joe!"

For a moment, he was confused. He wasn't sure how to respond to this noise, this word being shouted at him. He blinked heavily, looking at the source of the noise, a blurry shadow with odd sparkles trailing down its cheeks.

He forced his thick tongue to work, to ignore that hole in his mouth, and he whispered, "D... Dad?"

"No, Joe, it's me." Cold plastic looped over his ears and he could see suddenly. The familiar hair, the once-sleepy eyes filled with tears. "It's Shin."

Shin. His brother.

"I..." It was hard to breathe, hard to speak. "I thought y... you were dead..."

Shin was still crying, though he was smiling at the same time. It was a sad smile, one full of regret. "We should have taken you with us. We should have come back for you, damnit." He reached out, and Joe flinched automatically as gentle fingertips pet back his bangs. "We should have never left you behind with that monster."

"What h-happened?" Joe coughed, pain exploding from his chest. He reached out desperately for something, anything to cling to, and Shin took his hand in his, still tenderly petting Joe's hair. It was an odd feeling, one he hadn't experienced since he was six and his mother was still well enough to tuck him in. Shin handed him a plastic cup filled with water, a straw ready since Joe could barely lift his head. It fell into the gap between his teeth as though that was where it was meant to be and he drank as much as he could while Shin spoke.

"One of the neighbors called the cops, said she was tired of listening to the constant screaming. When they got there, you were already passed out and Shou was still beating up on Mom. I heard it took about four officers to pull him off of her."

"Is Mom ok?" Joe asked. He could feel the fear trying to build up in him, but he was in too much pain right now to let it free.

Shin nodded. "She's up in the psych ward right now, screaming and raving. She'll probably end up being committed since Shou was arrested."

"D-Dad's in jail?" Joe couldn't stop the hope that escaped with those words.

"For a long time, I hope," Shin spat. "Apparently, he turned on the first cop that showed up, so even just _that_ should keep him away from us." He looked at his brother, broken and battered in the hospital bed. "But let's not talk about that, not now. You need your rest, ok?"

Joe nodded, just barely, letting his head rest back against the pillow. As sleep quickly overtook him, he realized he was still holding his brother's hand.

It felt very nice.

* * *

He was in the hospital – an actual, _real_ hospital, not a clinic on the outskirts of gang territory – for several weeks. Along with knocking out one tooth and chipping another, Shou had broken two ribs, one of which had punctured a lung. There were fractures in both his arms and they had discovered another along his thigh that had been inflicted a few weeks ago. He had to have almost a hundred stitches, mostly along his arms and back where most of the damage had been dealt.

His mother, Shin told him, had one hand and all its fingers broken, her nose broken, her jawline fractured, and there would now be a permanent bald spot on the side of her head. She still had all her teeth, though there was now a small dip in her tongue where she'd managed to bite through it. There were bruises all up and down her arms and chest and one leg had been broken. She had been strapped to her bed, refusing to take her medication until Shin had shown up.

"There was this moment," he was telling Joe one day. He came by to visit every day, spending most of the time with his brother and spending his last visiting hour with Joanne. "Where she looked right through me, like she was seeing Shou or something. The nurses were worried they'd have to knock her out again, but then she just... smiled. And started talking to me like nothing had happened. Like Shuu and I hadn't been kicked out. Like she was normal, for once."

The nurse that took care of him told Joe that Joanne was much better about taking her medication after that. All the improper doses, all the ineffective and even experimental brands Shou had forced into her, none of that mattered now that she knew her children were safe.

"She's still going to be committed in a few days," Shin said. "But she said she doesn't mind, now. And as soon as you can walk around again, I'll take you to go see her."

"Where's Shuu?" Joe asked almost two weeks later. He'd spoken to the police so many times in the past few days, it was relaxing to hear about his long-lost brothers. As well, he was able to sit up and feed himself, go to the bathroom by himself again, and it made him feel much more human than he ever had before. "Is he ok?"

Shin handed Joe one of the letters he always carried around with him. "Jun became a missionary - a friend of hers encouraged her at some environmental protest. Nana, I think her name was? - and Davis couldn't be prouder of her. Well, she went off to Europe a few years ago, cut off from civilization almost completely, but she always managed to send letters to Shuu once a week.

"Suddenly, they stopped coming for a while, and Shuu took off. He traveled the whole continent to find her like in some romance book, and _he_ wrote letters once a week. It seems he only just found her, but he's going to stay in Europe with her for a while.

"He's going to be so happy when he finds out you're safe." And Shin hugged him, the first hug Joe could remember anyone in his family giving him in a long time.

The next day, before Shin showed up, Nana surprised him by poking her head into his room.

"Oh my God, Joe! You have to _stop_ scaring me like this, you butthole!" she screeched as she ran at him, throwing her arms around him as tight as she could squeeze. She was still in her pink scrubs from her shift rotation where she followed the nurses at the small clinic she interned at. She sat on the edge of his bed and hugged him breathless, smacking him on the shoulder at the same time. "I thought you were dead, _again_."

"I'm sorry, Nana," Joe said, with a sheepish smile. "I didn't mean to."

Nana pulled away enough to shake her finger at him, but he could see her on the verge of tears as her worry threatened to spill over. "You'd better never do this to me again, you hear me?"

"I won't," Joe told her. "I promise."

"You sure?" Nana eyed him suspiciously. "You're not going to fall down the stairs or walk into doors anymore, are you?"

Joe shook his head. "Not anymore. All household dangers are now locked away, awaiting trial."

Nana just buried herself into his chest, crying with relief.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Joe asked after a moment when it seemed she'd calmed down. "I thought your clinic was across town?"

"It is," she admitted, finally standing once more. She reached up, absently petting the wing of her butterfly clip. Even after all the years he'd known her, it still held all its diamonds and emeralds in perfect place. "But Shinjiro collapsed the other day and he was brought here. We're still awaiting tests, but he keeps telling me he's fine." The tears shining in her eyes told him she didn't believe her boyfriend.

"I should be up and about in a few days," Joe said with a soft smile. He was glad his friend had tracked him down, even if she was still too mad at him to admit it. "If he's still here, why don't I go visit him with you then?"

"He'd love to see you," Nana admitted. "You're one of his best friends, you know that, right? And he'd... he'd tell you anything..."

She wouldn't say it out loud.

Shinjiro would tell him things he couldn't tell her.

* * *

Joe was finally being released. The clothes he'd arrived in were long gone, disposed of to the police for evidence against his father. They'd taken a few statements from him, from Shin, and even some from Joanne when she was feeling particularly lucid (which, Joe was grateful to say, was happening more and more). Shin had brought him some clothes, a shirt of Shuu's that was too big and an extra set of pants that he wasn't sure who they had originally belonged to.

Shin filled out all the paperwork and as Joe finished scheduling a checkup with at the nurse's station, he told Joe all about the apartment.

"It's the one out in Koto we told you about, do you remember? When we first left?" It was a long time ago, and Joe wasn't sure if he remembered or just thought he did. "It was supposed to be a thirty day wait, but we explained everything to the landlord. Oh, it was a huge mess back then – the walls were chipped and the paint was cracked. The old tenants had left huge stains on the carpet and it all had to be replaced, but we worked it out. It wasn't like we had any furniture or anything at that point, so while we were out, they would paint or patch up the walls, and every night we came home, it was like we were walking into a new apartment.

"That place has always been huge, it's three bedrooms, remember us telling you? So when Jun left first, it was just me and Shuu. But we were always busy, him with his job and me still going to med school, so we barely saw each other. If we had, we probably would have downsized to something a bit more manageable, but, I dunno, this just seemed to work.

"He left a few months ago, and I really just planned to let the lease expire, just move into the dorms at the hospital. But now I'm glad I didn't because I'm taking you there with me." Shin looked at Joe, really _looked_ at his little brother, and Joe could see the relief in his eyes. "You'll be safe. More than that, you'll be _home_."


	10. Chapter 10

_Just call me angel of the morning, Angel_

* * *

2012

It was almost a year now that Joe lived with his brother, and he was still amazed at just how _patient_ the man could be. The first day Joe had been out of the hospital, Shin had given him a tour of the apartment.

"I'm going to give you the master bedroom, all the way at the end of the hall there. It was Shuu's before he left and I've been too busy with school to move my stuff in there anyway. The best part, the _best_ thing about this place?" Shin had run his hand down the frame of the door and smiled at his brother. "No locks. Nothing on the outside, at least. You're free to come and go as you please."

Something so small, something so simple, and yet Joe couldn't stop the smile that crossed his face. Couldn't stop himself from repeating his brothers motion. He could still hear that deadbolt in his dreams, probably would until the day he died, but now he would never have to fear it again.

"There's a police station a few blocks away," Shin continued, knowing just how happy he'd made his brother – how happy he and Shuu had been when they had discovered the same thing. "So the whole neighborhood is totally safe. You'll hear sirens every now and then, and they're mostly in the middle of the night, but we thought it was pretty worth it."

There was a second bedroom, Shin's room. At first glance, it was a terrifying reminder of home with medical textbooks overflowing off bookshelves, anatomy magazines splayed out across the desk, study guides taped to the wall to read while falling asleep. But then he saw them: movie posters plastering the walls, stacks of DVDs hidden next to the textbooks, and even a small TV shoved off in the corner – all things Shou would have murdered his children for even _thinking_ of having.

The third bedroom, Shin explained, had been Jun's for a while and when she moved out, it had become an all-around storage/office space. Which meant it held an extra bed as well as boxes and boxes of stuff.

"Some dishes, a lot of clothes and sheets, just a bunch of junk that I don't even remember buying." He had shrugged. "You're welcome to rifle through it if you want."

"I'll be fine," Joe told him. "I don't really know what to say to all this..."

"You don't have to say anything." Shin had wrapped Joe in a hug tight enough to irritate his still-healing ribs. He took a shaky breath and whispered, "I'm so sorry, Joe..."

As Shin promised, police sirens screamed all night long. Joe could see the cars racing down the street from his window, his new room pulsing red and blue over and over as his tongue probed the hole in his gum line. The doctors who had signed his release papers told him to set up a dental appointment to get an implant for it and the chipped tooth that was next to it. For hours before he fell asleep, he would get up to randomly open his door. To leave his room at will and explore whenever he wanted to, not just when he was _allowed_ to. Around three A.M., when he was walking to the kitchen for the fifth time, Shin poked his head out of his room and gave a sleepy smile as Joe stammered apologies.

"We did the same thing," Shin said with a yawn. He emerged, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. "I can't tell you how _tired_ we were, all the time, because we couldn't stop ourselves from just... leaving. Just walking around and not having anything thrown at us, or yelled at, or hit." He swallowed half the bottle and put it back. "Just be sure to get some rest. We have a big day tomorrow."

"What are we doing?" Joe grabbed his own water just because he could. Just because he could eat or drink anything he wanted and not be in trouble.

"We're going shopping."

* * *

Shin had to go grocery shopping, anyway, he explained as he drove his brother down the street. But this would be the perfect opportunity for Joe to redecorate Shuu's old room. "New bedding, new clothes, all that stuff."

When Joe protested that what was already provided was fine, Shin made a face at him. "I could hear them at night, and God knows what he and Jun did when I _wasn't_ there - I'm sure you don't want to sleep in _that_."

Joe mirrored the expression and found that he had to agree. They pulled up to a Lawson's that was just down the street.

"I'm going to get some stuff for dinner. Why don't you go pick out some new sheets while we're here, and we'll get some clothes at the _Junes_ later?"

Joe watched his brother grab a hand basket and start towards the groceries. For a moment, he was lost. Even when he had been allowed out of the house on non-school business, he had always been given a task and a time in which to complete it. For his brother to simply give him the freedom to do whatever he wanted, it was wonderful. In fact, he was certain that if he said he didn't want to get new sheets, Shin would tell him that was all right as well.

But Shin was right – he didn't want to sleep in whatever Shuu and Jun had left behind, so he hurried toward the Home section.

Shin decided that curry would be good for the night, so he filled his basket with fresh vegetables and bags of rice, cans of coconut milk and a new jar of curry paste. The basket on his arm was getting heavy, and he knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself if he made it to the candy isle. Even after eleven years of freedom, he still took complete advantage over it whenever he could.

"You just about ready, Joe?" he called, sneaking in a few candy bars under the carrots. Shin walked over to Joe who was holding a basic set of sheets. "... White?"

"Oh, um, yes?" Joe misunderstood Shin's blank look. "W-well, I didn't mean to take so long, but I can't remember what size bed I have. I mean, I'm not even sure what size I had at Dad's, so I was, was trying to think about how big it was and how big Shuu's bed was and -"

"That's not it," Shin sighed. He snatched the sheets from Joe's hands, swallowing the guilt at making his brother flinch, and said, "Not white. You're here to get something for _you_ , not Shou."

Joe pouted at the sheet set that was put back, but he couldn't deny that Shin was right. The only thing he had ever been provided for his room were plain, thin, white sheets. But to actually choose his own? It was an embarrassing realization that after twenty four years, he didn't even have a favorite _color._

It was the first time that he realized Shin's patience, as his brother waited while he looked over what would have been a simple decision for any normal person. But for Joe, his would be the first time he did something, chose something, solely because _he_ wanted it. Did he want something bright? Something dark? Pink, blue, gray, animal print, striped?

He reached out after almost a half hour, not even knowing he was doing so at first, and grabbed a set he hadn't seen when he was looking before. He thought Shin would be upset, get angry, as it was so close to the plain hospital white, only now with deep purple splotches that called up the memory of his lost soul-bonded friend.

But Shin just smiled, saying softly, "I didn't know him for that long, but I miss him too. He made you human long before me and Shuu could."

* * *

Slowly, Shuu's belongings were replaced, shoved to the empty third bedroom, so that Joe could have room for his own things. His brother's room was slowly becoming _his_ room, setting up a computer and a television, finding posters at the Lawson, even tracking down an early copy of the Teenage Wolves first single to play in an old, huge boombox he bought at a thrift store. His Gomamon-printed sheets, however, were his favorite part of his whole room.

Nana managed to track him down after a few days, dragging a sickly looking Shinjiro with her. She handed him a _Wal-Mart_ bag, telling him with a strained smile, "I brought you some supplies for you to set up an altar: some candles, incense, that kind of junk. I'll go with you once day and we'll get stuff to make a broom and track down some a Goddess statue – there's this really cool Witch shop in Shibuya I go to all the time and -"

Shinjiro suddenly fell into a deep coughing fit, and Nana rubbed his back soothingly while Joe directed them to the couch.

"I'm not contagious," Shinjiro said quickly, almost collapsing while trying to sit. Nana held him steady, still trying desperately to tell herself that he was going to be ok.

"Did you find out what it was?" Joe asked. He set his bag of supplies down on the kitchen island and began hunting around for cups, still unused to the layout.

Shinjiro paused and Nana pouted. "No," he lied.

"He refuses to tell me," Nana whined, and Shinjiro just gave her a reassuring smile. Though it was slightly dampened by the fact that a drop of blood could still be seen at the corner of his mouth. The woman just glowered at her boyfriend, getting up to help Joe in his search for the glasses.

"I'm super-duper worried," she whispered, joining her friend in the kitchen. "Ever since he got out of the hospital, he's been so... tired. So withdrawn. He keeps saying he's ok, but I'm really worried about him."

Joe found the coffee mugs in a lower cabinet, pulling three out and setting them on the counter just in time to catch Nana as she fell into him, crying quietly on his shoulder. "We've always been able to talk about everything ever since we were kids. That he's keeping secrets now..."

Joe pet her hair back, taking extra care to nudge her butterfly clip. "He just doesn't want you to worry. I understand completely how he is. Just... give him some time, ok?"

Nana just pouted and Joe could hear what she didn't want to say, _"I've given him years to tell me and he won't."_

Joe gave her a comforting squeeze. "It'll be fine, I promise."

* * *

Joe looked at the cell phone in his hands. Brand new, shiny touchscreen, _both_ speakers working – it was almost a dream come true.

"I've been needing to update my phone anyway, so you just got lucky," Shin lied with an easy smile as they walked out of the store.

"I really appreciate it," Joe breathed. "Since it was my old phone that got me..."

Shin patted him on the back and laughed. "Take a day to play around with it – I took a whole week."

And so Joe did. Between school and shifts at the hospital, even while at the dentist's office waiting to get his tooth implant, he was on his phone, finding out intricacies to it others had mastered for years. But the first thing he did, before he figured out downloading anything, was dial the first number that came to mind – the only number he knew by heart while everyone else had been a click in his old phone.

"This is Matt," came the voice that still made him melt.

"H-hey, it's Joe," he began, cursing his unsteady voice. He was glad this wasn't in person, as he was already blushing.

"Joe?" There was a pause and a rustle of paper. "Hey man, it's been a while. Did you get a new number?"

"Yeah, it's a... long... _long_ story. I'm living in Koto, now, with Shin."

"Finally out from under that old bastard's thumb?" Matt sounded prouder than Shin when he had come home the first time with a simple poster, bought all on his own. "You're going to fill me in, right?"

"Eventually," Joe agreed. But not all the full details, as he was sure Matt would track Shou down and give him another beating, jail cell or no. "How is Tokyo University?"

"Holy. Shit." Matt laughed, an exhausted, excited laugh. "Thank goodness for you and Izzy, man. I'm up to my eyeballs in homework, and the semester just started. I don't know _what_ I was thinking when I decided to become an astronaut."

"It was probably whatever you were smoking back in high school," Joe said, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

Matt groaned. "How many times do I have to tell everyone, I didn't _do_ any of that shit. Just a few cigarettes or so."

"Oh, you mean about a pack a day?" Joe couldn't help but tease. "And a couple bottles of liquor to wash it all down?"

"Ok, ok. I _did_ go a little overboard for a while – don't say anything – but me, and my tarred lungs, and my struggling liver are getting better, damnit."

Joe laughed, leaning back as he listened to Matt just talk, like there was nothing wrong in the world. Like they were just two friends, who had never fought, never fallen out of love, never tried so precariously to go back to the way they had been. The mindless chatter filled his days, his breaks, his nights. Matt had given him the other Childrens' phone numbers, but he knew he didn't spend half as much time talking to them combined as he did with Matt.

So he was rather confused one day in February when Izzy knocked on his door. Shin was out, running errands and letting Joe have plenty of time, and freedom, to study for his upcoming final exams.

"Oh, hey, Izzy," Joe smiled as he let his friend inside. He blushed when the man noticed the incense burning on the table next to a mess of study guides, and he hurried over to snuff it out and straighten up. "Sorry, my friend Nana brought over some stuff to help me study, and I wasn't expecting visitors. How are you and Tai, by the way, it's been a while since I've seen you two."

"We've been fine," Izzy said. Joe offered tea and the redhead held up his hand to wave him off politely.

"Judging by that rock, I'd say more than 'fine'," Joe said, looking at the thin gold band around Izzy's finger. He didn't want to be jealous as he reached out, looking the engagement ring over. "When did Tai have time to find this? I thought he'd been so busy on the National Soccer team lately."

"He proposed on Valentine's Day," Izzy admitted with a shy, proud smile. "We haven't set a date yet, but it'll be soon, we're sure. In fact," Izzy gave a tiny smile, "I came over to ask you something."

"I hope it's not for advice," Joe laughed. "I haven't dated anyone in..." Sleeping with Matt when he was eleven probably didn't count as dating, and he still held true to his promise to never bring it up, even with someone like Izzy. "Ever, really... That's kind of sad, isn't it?"

"I don't believe I'm one to pass judgment on such matters," Izzy said evenly, with an obvious blush and Joe just continued to laugh at him. "However, there is still the matter of my inquiry..."

"If you promise to talk like a human being again." It was adorable how formal Izzy became when he was flustered.

"I was hoping that, once the date is set, that," Izzy swallowed hard. "That you would agree to be my best man."

Joe smiled. "Of course I would. Why would I say no to that?"

"Because Matt has already agreed to be Tai's best man..."

"Don't worry about that," Joe told his friend with a gentle shake of his head. "I got over it _years_ ago – I promise. We're just... good friends now."

"I see..." Izzy didn't believe him, just like Nana never did. "Either way, I'm glad you agreed. I don't mean to be impolite and leave straight away, but we still need to call Mimi, try and find a date between all of Tai's practice camps, find the rest of our groomsmen..."

"Nana's been planning her wedding since she was seven, believe me, I know how stressful it can be." Joe patted Izzy on the back, swallowing the jealousy at the proud, loving look he could see in his friend's eyes. "And if you ever really start feeling that stress, just give me a call. Nana's been dying to find someone besides me to teach yoga. She's really good at it, you know."

"That sounds very enjoyable." Izzy gave him a sudden hug, a testament to how much Tai had influenced his now-fiancee over the years. "I'll stay in touch with you, and as soon as we set a date I'll call you first."

* * *

It was on a hot June day, in a small chapel decked out in soft orange and pale purple, that Tai and Izzy married. Mimi had flown herself in from America off the set of her first movie, blowing off the premier so that she could attend the ceremony she had so meticulously planned out. Yolie, Cody and Joe wore the matching lavender to Izzy while Matt stood next to Kari and Davis, each of them looking well in pastel orange. The priest was caring, careful enough not to mention the absence of Tai's parents nor the fight that had broken out earlier.

Joe didn't want to admit it, especially not in front of Matt, how TK's words had hurt. The young blonde had lost himself in religion since the closure of the Digital Gates and subsequent loss of Patamon, pulling close all the messages of his priest and Church. Neither of which seemed to agree too well with Joe's particular life choices.

"I still can't believe that little bastard," Matt growled at the bar. He was nursing a beer (or three, Joe noted), every now and then rubbing his sore knuckles. It had been a while since he'd punched anyone, and he'd caught his knuckle on his little brother's teeth. "Calling you a f-... _that_. Calling Tai and Izzy that - on their wedding day!"

"Izzy sure put him in his place, though," Joe said, still proud of his shy friend who was currently squawking on the dance floor as Tai dragged him to the middle of it, ignoring his new husband's protests. "Better than you did, and he didn't even raise his voice."

"Oh shut up," Matt laughed, and Joe lost himself in the noise. How wonderful it would be, in the perfect romantic atmosphere, to tell him how he felt. How he'd felt his whole life, despite their spats. But Matt finished his beer and stepped away quickly, stumbling over his feet. "'m not drunk, I swear – I'm not a lightweight, not since I was fifteen. I'm just gonna check up on Kari before she leaves. She's my in-law now, you know."

Joe couldn't stop that flash of hurt from crossing his face, and he was glad Matt suddenly couldn't look at him. But he composed himself quickly, saying, "She's been your in-law since her and TK -"

"That motherfucker," Matt spat, pointedly using that exact curse.

"- got married last year," Joe finished. He sighed and looked at his phone, glad he no longer had to hide such a commonplace piece of technology. "It's getting late, so I think I'll be going. You don't think Izzy'll mind, do you?"

The duo looked to their freshly married friend, arms draped over Tai's shoulders, gazing deeply into his husband's eyes. They were completely lost to everything but themselves, slow dancing to a death metal song Mimi had snuck onto their wedding CD as Davis moshed next to them with Yolie and a slightly uncomfortable, but very happy, Ken.

"I think they'll be fine," Matt chuckled. He glanced over his shoulder to smile at Joe, and the blue haired man wondered at the blush he saw there. He told himself it was just the alcohol catching up with him as Matt said, almost too soft to be heard, "Take care of yourself. I'll... talk... to you soon."

Joe nodded, trying not to look like he was running from the bar. Running from Matt.

He was in the taxi on his way home, fumbling with his phone in the backseat, telling himself over and over that he wouldn't give in and call Matt this very instant when it began vibrating wildly. He yelped, making the driver give him a strange look in the rearview mirror.

"S-sorry," he apologized sheepishly. The picture on his phone was Nana in her scrubs after her first day in her clinic. Her hair was a mess, her butterfly clip barely hanging on, and there was blood and vomit dripping down her front, but she was grinning from ear to ear, fingers raised in a V. "Nana, hey, I -"

"Joe, I, I..." Nana was sobbing loudly, static filling the line as she held the phone too close to her mouth. "It's t-terrible and, oh, Gods..."

"Nana! Nana, calm down." Joe clutched his cell, as though he was holding her. "What happened?"

"It's Sh-Sh-Shinji... He, he," she sobbed loudly, hitting a button with her cheek and making it beep. "Stupid fucking thing!"

"Nana, take a breath," Joe practically pleaded. The driver was now looking over his shoulder more than he was looking at traffic. "Pranayama, right? In then out, in then -"

"Fuck pranayama!" Nana shrieked and Joe jerked the phone away from his ear with a wince. "Fuck Shinji, fuck his mom, _fuck everything_!" Then she sobbed again, sniffling directly into the speaker.

"Ok, ok, I agree: fuck everything." Joe rubbed his ear, putting his phone back hesitantly. "Nana, tell me _right now_ what happened."

"It's stupid – I'm stupid – but Shinji... Shinjiro he... he..." She hiccupped, huffing and puffing almost until she was hyperventilating. "Shinji _broke up with me_!"

"What?!" Joe yelped. "Why did he do that?"

"I don't know!" Nana cried. There was the sound of a train whistle, of uncomfortable people moving around suddenly. "Because he's a butthead! Because he hates me! B-because he's been _cheating_ on me!"

"He cheated?" That didn't sound like the man Joe had known for years. Not at all. "Did you catch him?"

"No..."

"Did he tell you?"

"No..."

"Did someone else tell you?"

"No! No, no, _no_! He just broke up with me!" Nana sniffled, and Joe heard the familiar tones of a manic state setting in. "But I'll get him – I swear I'll get him!"

"Nana, what are you doing? N-Nana! Where are you?!" Joe waved at his driver to get his attention, not realizing they'd already pulled over.

"I'm at the train station. Oh, he'll be sorry all right. He'll be _damn_ sorry when they have to scrape me off the tracks. Then who'll be upset? Huh, huh?! Probably _not_ him!"

"Shit," Joe cursed. He looked to the driver, who was watching this meltdown with an amused eyebrow raised. "I need you to get me to the station, as fast as you can, _please_!"

"For you and that little yappy thing, sure," the driver laughed and Joe made a face at him. When he wasn't looking, of course.

They reached the train station in minutes and Joe flung practically his whole wallet at the driver, who was still laughing. He resisted the urge to flip him off, telling himself it would waste precious seconds. The trains were still running normally, and there were no drivers announcing sudden delays for "maintenance" like the last time someone had stood on the tracks. There was, however, a nervous looking crowd, and a loud wailing coming from down the platform.

"Nana!" Joe cried, racing over. "Nana, it's ok, I swear!"

He shoved through a throng of businessmen who were mumbling about their own daughters, and pushed aside a nosy, brittle old woman with the face of a rat who was on her own phone, loudly complaining about the mental states of "too-pretty teens". Nana herself was sitting on the bench, still clutching her own cell and crying into it like she was talking to someone. She was in her scrubs, dark patches of old blood stained down the front mixing with tears that washed her makeup down her cheeks in black and tan rivers.

"Nana?" Joe knelt next to his friend, taking her hand in his. "Nana, are you there?" Just like talking to his mother.

"J... Joe?" Nana looked at her phone for a moment before focusing on the person by her feet. Her eyes were red from crying, and her voice was cracking. "Joe, I... Shinji, he..."

"You told me," Joe whispered, trying to give her a comforting smile. He stood slowly, taking Nana's elbow in his hand and helping her to unsteady feet. "Nana, listen to me. I'm going to take you home, ok?"

She was looking at him like she had no idea who he was, and he hoped a station officer wasn't about to approach. Finally she blinked a fresh set of tears and nodded. "I don't want to go to my home, Joe..."

"Then I'll take you to mine." Joe smiled as he led her away, Nana floating wraith-like beside him. He held her gently but firmly, just in case she tried to bolt for the tracks. "And we'll just sit and watch TV. Shin's not there, so it'll be just us, ok?"

"O... Ok."

Joe's cab was still sitting there, the driver smiling as he approached. "This your little yappy dog from the phone?"

"Just take us home," Joe grumbled, pouring Nana into the backseat with him. She was so lost in her own mind, eyes looking through everything they set on.

"Sure, sure." He driver held up Joe's cash and laughed. "I have more than enough here."

Joe rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Nana. He reached out to stroke her arm, whispering softly to her. He tried everything he could to get her to come back to reality, talked to her about every little thing under the sun, asked after her mother and her studies. She just mumbled, over and over, wordless noises under her breath.

After a while, Joe sighed and sat back. He looked around and yelped, yelling at the driver, "No, I said Koto! Not _Ky_ oto! We need to turn back." He looked out the window as the driver made a face. "Go there - that way."

"Your little yappy dog says this is good enough for her," the driver said with a roll of his eyes.

"Nana?" Joe looked just in time for Nana to slam the door in his face. She had stepped out of the cab, walking directly into the street. "Nana, damnit!"

As Joe ran after her, the driver poked his head out the window, calling out, "Hey! My fare!"

"You said that was plenty," Joe snapped. Then he did flip him off. With both fingers. "Nana, wait!"

He just managed to snatch Nana out of the street and drag her to the sidewalk. She was crying again, silent tears falling once after another.

"Nana, you can't just _walk out_ of a taxi."

"Why not?" Nana asked. She wasn't sniffling anymore, now just resigned to feeling bleak and empty. "What do I have left?"

"Shinjiro's not the only guy," Joe tried. He ignored that little voice in his head that called him a hypocrite, drowning it out with his own words. "C'mon, Nana, you can't just kill yourself because of him. There's plenty more to live for."

"Like what?" Nana looked to the street as the light changed, cars flashing by all too quickly for Joe's liking.

"Like? Uh..." Joe didn't have much experience in this, only recently discovering what it was to live for himself. "Your family for one – your mom's all the way out in Kanto, isn't she? And you said she was all alone since your dad died." Nana just lowered her head, and Joe tried to think of something that wasn't dead relatives. "Y-your job! Your clinic said that you were the best nurse they have, and you're not even a resident yet. Just a few more years and you could be the youngest head nurse there!" Nana was sniffling again, hands shaking. "Shit, uh... Damnit, Nana, don't loose it over a guy. Believe me, it sucks!"

"But without Shinjiro, I don't have a future. Even more than wanting to be a nurse, I've only ever wanted to be Shinji's _wife_. I wanted to have a family with him, raise a kid and a dog and listen to him bitch about a 'stinking dead-end job' when he comes home every night. Without Shinjiro, I don't have _anything_."

"Shinjiro doesn't have to be the one," Joe tried. She was talking coherently, which was more than he'd gotten in the past hour. "I'm sure there some other guys out there, a great guy, who will love you and your kid and dog and his dead-end job."

"Who?" Nana pressed.

"I don't know – _someone_! Anyone!" Joe looked around. "Maybe that guy, or that guy over there." Maybe not that last guy, he looked like a creeper as close to the park as he was.

"What about you?"

Joe looked down. Nana was peering at him intently, as though she'd never seen him before in her life. "What?!"

"What about you?" Nana pressed. "Why can't you be my guy?"

"B-because I'm _gay_ , Nana. That kind of means I don't _like_ women like that."

Nana threw her foot down and pouted, looking like she did whenever Shinjiro would tease her. "Then don't be my guy forever – just for tonight. If Shinji can go around and cheat on me, well, I can damn sure cheat on him!" She grabbed Joe desperately. "Just one time, I _promise_! Sleep with me once, and I'll be ok."

"Nana, I, I can't..."

"Fine. I'll just go walk in the street then!"

Joe grabbed her as she whirled around, pulling her close as she struggled in his grasp. "Damnit, Nana! You can't just kill yourself whenever someone won't sleep with you!"

"Just once!" she screamed. "Just once, please, and then I'll be ok! Joe, _please_..."

Joe ignored the look the creeper in the park gave him as she dragged Nana down the street. He ignored the look the woman at the counter gave him as he reached into Nana's purse for her wallet. He ignored the sounds coming from every room at this time on day on a Sunday. He ignored it when Nana stripped herself, screaming with rage when her shirt caught on her butterfly clip. He ignored it when she grabbed the heirloom from her hair and flung it across the room, one wing snapping and sending diamonds and emeralds all over the floor.

"W-well?" Nana asked, voice soft. She looked like she was ignoring him, too, as she crawled into the heart-shaped bed.

Joe turned out all the pink lamps, but there was still enough light from the hallway creeping in to see Nana even as he undressed. He found himself on top of her, realizing that he'd only done this once. With a boy. When he was eleven.

Nana cried the whole time, holding Joe close and whining Shinjiro's name miserably, over and over. Any time he tried to pull away, pretend like he was finished, Nana would just bury her head into his shoulder and whimper, beg him to not let her go.

When it was over, she turned away, sobbing into the pillow and Joe sat there, wondering what he'd just done.


	11. Chapter 11

_Then slowly turn away_

* * *

2013

Joe looked at the box in his arms. Tai had told him it was a great idea, that Matt would love it. But what did Tai know, nowadays, so busy with moving himself and Izzy out of the city and into a giant house instead of their cramped apartment?

"This is stupid," Joe grumbled. "I can't believe I did this..."

"I think it's wonderful," Kari said sweetly, patting him on the shoulder. She was holding her swollen belly with her other hand, her second boy growing inside her. "Just the thing he'll need, not this dumb pop music and alcohol."

"I don't know," Joe whined. "What if he gets the wrong idea? What if he thinks-?" He stopped himself. Kari knew – of course she knew, she knew everything – but he still held to that promise. Noone would ever know of their time together, not from _his_ lips.

"He's going to think it's a wonderful, thoughtful gift," Kari smiled.

She _knew_.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Tai cheered, already tipsy. His husband was by his side, sighing and trying to keep him from pouring alcohol into his bottle of water. "The man of the hour is here!"

"Shut the hell up, Tai," Matt said as he walked into the conference room. Tai had rented out a whole motel just for the twelve of them for Matt's graduation party. The blonde was tired, well beyond exhausted really, but he was grinning. He'd finally done it: graduated from Tokyo University. The letter in his hand was further evidence of all his hard work, the NASA logo emblazoned across the front. "I'm too tired for your shit, you know that?"

"You're just being a grump because you have to go to Texas in a week," Tai laughed. "Learn enough English while you were in school, cowboy?"

"Believe me, the first cow I get, I'm naming after you just so I can send it to the slaughterhouse." Matt shoved his letter in his pocked, grabbing Tai and hugging him tight enough to elicit a jealous glance from Izzy. He flopped in a nearby chair and looked around the room. There was a table set up with an already half-eaten cake and a bowl of punch that, even from where he was sitting, smelled more like alcohol than juice. A stack of gifts was set up, one from each Child, though whether they were bought out of respect or amazement, Matt wasn't sure. He himself was surprised he'd graduated at all, let alone at the top of his class and with honors. And even the acceptance letter from NASA had been enough to bowl him over for hours the day he got it.

Joe excused himself politely as Davis threw himself across the room, offering Matt a piece of cake like he hadn't been the first one to dive into it. Seeing the blonde right now, no longer a shadow of himself trying to fit in, to be normal the only way he knew how, he wasn't sure if he could stay away all night. And this gift, this dumb gift he'd spent _way_ too much money on but knew it was perfect from the moment he saw it...

He wandered down the halls of the motel, abandoning the conference room and its loud music for the bar and its soft lights and comforting alcohol. He still held the box in his arms, wondering just what he was going to do with it now. He couldn't return it, and he was far too embarrassed to actually _give_ it to the man. If he hadn't been stupid and personalized the damn thing, he could claim it lost.

He'd set it down a while ago, sinking into his third fruity-smelling and not-too-strong drink, when he felt a presence hovering awkwardly over his shoulder. He tried not to sputter into his glass, hating himself for blushing as he turned to glance at the blonde man approaching him.

"H-hey, Matt. I heard you were accepted. I just wanted to say congratulations."

"Thanks, man." Matt looked like he wanted to put his hand on Joe's shoulder, setting it next to the box instead. "You could have just said so with the others instead of waiting all night."

"I just, well," Joe blushed furiously, the drink giving him courage. He grabbed the box and held it up. "I wanted to give you something."

"You don't have to get me anything," Matt murmured, pink dusting his cheeks as he took the gift. "Hell, I should get _you_ something. If it weren't for you and Izzy, I don't think I'd have even passed the entrance exams."

Joe couldn't stop himself from saying, "The moment I heard you were accepted, I found it online." That sounded a bit stalker-ish, so Joe rushed into his words, trying to speak before he could think. "I hope I got the right size. I asked Tai, and he said he and he said he didn't know, but he gave me your old size and I figured you couldn't have gotten much bigger..."

But Matt wasn't listening. He'd opened the box and pulled out the gift that Joe had agonized over buying for days, wondering if it would be too personal, too _odd_ for a man to give to another man. It was a deep blue jacket with white trim, silver buttons clasped up to a soft neckline. Above the breast pocket, red embroidery thread proclaimed proudly, "Yamato Ishida, Houston, TX" and the back was covered in a huge patch, the white NASA logo striking against the dark fabric.

Matt's lips moved for a moment before he remembered how to speak. "Oh, wow... Joe, you... You really didn't have to..."

Even as he spoke, he pulled the jacket on, the smell of brand new fabric filling his lungs and Joe blushed furiously. Matt was lost in the scent, the feel of warmth both physical and emotional, neither of which he was completely used to even now.

This was it, Joe knew. Right here, right now. Before Matt left for America, for the Moon. Joe would tell him how he felt, how much he loved the man and always had. How much he hated their fighting when they were teens and how much he desperately _adored_ the blonde. Even if it would break Joe's heart and destroy their friendship, he would finally _tell_ Matt. He opened his mouth, feeling the words bubble up in the back of his throat, when a dark shadow fell between them.

It was Sora.

She wore an uncomfortable, unflattering blue dress, with a grossly hot looking blue jacket. The years had not been kind to the young woman since she'd graduated high school. In face, Joe couldn't remember much about her, aside Yolie telling everyone how Sora had passed on going to college, preferring to work at her mother's _ikebana_ store. That sounded nothing like the girl Joe had once known, but Toshiko Takenouchi wasn't one to be trifled with, not even by her own daughter.

"Hey, Matt," she said, loudly and Joe's throat closed up. He could still see it, from so long ago. How she'd constantly held Matt's hand. How she'd never been too far from him. How much she dolled herself up for him and only him, even after their break up. "It's been a while, huh?"

"Y-yeah," Matt mumbled and he stepped away from the bar. Even so far from Christmas Eve, the scent of smoke and alcohol was enough to trigger the memories of what he'd done that year so long ago. His knuckles throbbed with phantom pain as he tried to remember attacking his girlfriend, punching her over and over until his trauma-induced hallucination had subsided.

"Sorry about your nose," he mumbled at length. "I didn't break it, did I?"

"It's fine," Sora giggled and Joe felt his stomach churn. He was glad he hadn't had to be around as Sora descended into what her mother obviously thought made a woman. "Just like me."

Matt stiffened as Sora reached out, walking her fingertips up his arm. He tried to force away the thoughts of his mother, of the same touches that drove him to such drastic lengths even at the age of six. Joe stood, trying not to stumble as the alcohol hit him suddenly. Of course he couldn't confess. Not now, not ever. He had never been the one Matt had loved, and he never would be.

"Excuse me," Joe whispered, not looking up at Sora. With how wonderfully Matt had progressed from when he was a teen, surely they could make their relationship work by now. "I should be getting back soon. I have school in the morning."

"Joe, hey, wait –!" Matt shouted. He tried to reach for Joe, and Sora snatched up his hand.

"Matt, please," Sora purred, pressing against her middle school ex. "I want to give _us_ another try..."

That was it. Joe couldn't take anymore. He threw some yen down on the counter, forgetting that Tai had already paid for everything, and took off. He would call a cab and, hopefully, he would be able to get to his room before he broke down.

* * *

Joe was at home, studying late into the night when his cell phone rang. He blinked heavily as he looked at it, taking a moment before his eyes could recognize the name calling him.

It was Nana.

Even now, seven months later, he was still embarrassed over what had happened. They had left the love hotel immediately after, despite paying for the full night, and Nana had quietly promised she would be all right before hopping on a bus home. Joe had wanted to call her, to make sure she got home safely, but he couldn't find the strength in his fingers to hold his phone, nor the strength in his voice to talk to her.

So he'd gone home that day. He'd holed up in his room, playing the panflute CD Nana had bought him and lighting incense to try and relax. He'd ended up curled up into a tight ball on his mattress for hours, arms and legs stiff by the time Shin came back. He had worried, over and over, wondering if Nana had made it to her apartment safely like she'd promised, or if she'd walked into a car. Right before he fell asleep, he'd gotten a text. Just a few simple words.

_Went home. Called Shinji. Told him._

The next day, she told him, Shinjiro and Nana had gone back to that love hotel, and he had found the broken butterfly clip. Missing one wing and half its gems, the clasp messed up, he'd held it in his hands and promised to explain.

It was cancer, he told her as they sat on that same heart-shaped bed. In his lungs. The doctors had found it a few years ago, when he had collapsed. He'd never told Nana because he didn't want to make her upset once it was in remission.

But then his chemo had stopped working. The cancer had come back, terminal this time.

He wasn't thinking clearly, he'd told Nana. But he'd broken up with her because he didn't want her to be sad. He would rather have Nana be furious at him for breaking up, than devastated when he died. Her sleeping with Joe was something he hadn't expected, but he wasn't mad. Not like Nana rightfully deserved to be.

Shinjiro had expected her to break up with him, yell at him, cast him out for lying. But she just took the clip and set it in her hair.

"Shinjiro, you idiot," she'd whispered, kissing him softly.

Nana had blushed when she told Joe that nothing had happened afterward, but Joe decided he didn't believe her. Just like she never believed him.

Shinjiro had even called Joe, told him there was nothing personal between them, and that everything was forgiven. But Joe was still too embarrassed to meet up with his old friends, preferring to call and talk to them whenever he had the chance.

But tonight, Joe was curious. It was late, far later than Nana usually called as she was busy with her own schoolwork for her nursing degree.

"Nana?" he asked, answering. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," Nana breathed, and Joe heard her voice crack. She wasn't crying, but she had been. "Shinjiro died today. H-His wake... We have it planned for Friday afternoon at his apartment."

"Nana, I'm... I'm so sorry..." Joe wasn't sure what to say. He wished he could be there to make sure she was fine. "Are you...?"

"Can you meet me?" Nana asked suddenly. "Friday morning, before the funeral?"

"Of course. I'll be there."

"Thanks. I..." Nana's voice took on a low, shameful tone. "I really owe you one. For being such a good friend about... everything."

And then she hung up before he could say a word.

Joe had school that Friday, but he skipped. He hadn't meant to, but he told Shin that he was going to his friend's funeral afterward.

"Take the day off," Shin told him and Joe blinked. He'd never even considered just _not_ going to school. "They'll understand."

"I... You're right," Joe decided. "I don't think I'd be able to concentrate anyway."

So he dressed in his best suit, the one he wore to interviews and knew he never would be able to again, and borrowed the car. He hadn't visited his friends at their homes too often, usually meeting at libraries or cafes, so he was almost late as he got lost. If he hadn't spied the woman in a black dress, half a butterfly clip in her hair, sitting on the side of the road, he would have passed it up completely. He parked across the street, hurrying over to meet her.

"Nana, I..." His throat closed as she stood to greet him. "You, uh. You really..."

Nana looked down at herself, smiling as she ran a hand over her bulging stomach. "You wouldn't believe how hard it is to find funeral clothes in the maternity section."

She almost sounded normal, until she tried to laugh. The noise was more like a whimper, like a lost puppy. "Oh, Joe, I... I'm so sorry that I - that we..."

"Don't worry about it," Joe told her softly. "Is this why you wanted to meet me early?"

"K-kind of..." She looked around and Joe led her to the bench she had been sitting on. "I wanted to tell you that, well..." She blushed furiously, grabbing her purse and digging inside. She pulled out a small photograph, blurry and black and white. Nana didn't raise her eyes as she handed it to Joe. "Here. It's a sonogram of your son."

Joe took the picture before he heard her words. "Of _my_ son?" Nana turned even darker at the yelp. "W-what do you mean? How, how do you know? That it's mine and not, you know... Shinji's?"

"I told you," Nana said softly. "That day Shinji told me about his... cancer... we didn't _do_ anything. In fact, because of, um, _it_ , we hadn't had sex in, actually, over a year. You're the only man I've been with..." She glanced up at Joe. He was looking at the sonogram, running his thumb over the tiny thing that was in the woman next to him. "I'm not going to, like, hit you up for child support, or make you marry me or anything. Everyone assumes he's Shinji's baby, and I'm happy to let them think that. I just... I just thought _you_ should know, at least."

"Nana..." Joe looked up at her at last. She was trying not to cry again, dabbing her eyes before her makeup could be ruined.

"I'm going to name him Aiko," Nana said softly. "Because he was made with love, and he will always know it." She stood, putting her tissue back in her purse. "You can keep that one – it's the second half to the one I have. Now, come on, it's almost time for his funeral."

Joe put one arm around Nana's shoulder, letting her cry into him as they approached the building.

* * *

Shin announced that he would be moving out at the end of the lease a few weeks after the funeral.

"I'm graduating," he told his brother, who still had the sonogram of Aiko in his wallet. "So I'm going to go to South America for missionary work. You have the choice, now. You can either move into a different apartment, something smaller and probably a bit more affordable. Or, you can stay in this one – Shuu's latest letter said he and Jun might be coming back and they'll need a place to stay for a while."

Joe nodded, still lost in his mind. A son. A young boy who would grow up with a loving mother, a caring grandmother, and all the stories of a kind, gentle father. Would he want to be a part of that tiny life? Help it grow? Or would he only screw up Aiko just like he was?

Joe had only just begun med school, and he found it ridiculously like high school. More homework and tests than he could shake a stick at, teachers that demanded all of his attention no matter how many classes he was taking, and far too many cute boys leaving notes at his locker.

He ignored most of them, gently telling the more persistent ones that he was flattered but uninterested. But there was one...

Kotaru was very shy, but Joe knew he was one that left a letter every day, signing his name in elegant script. He sat across the room, and every time Joe looked up, he would look away. He thought that, like so many others, Kotaru would eventually decide Joe was too snooty and give up. But he continued to stare, to blush, to walk up to Joe's locker and continue on like he never meant to stop.

It was getting kind of embarrassing, really. Joe continued to tell himself that he simply wasn't interested in dating. That he absolutely was _not_ waiting for Matt to come running back to him. That he didn't continue to dream, to remember, soft touches and gentle confessions back in the light of two moons and the heat of a boiler.

One morning, he arrived to school early. Shin had gotten the car title transferred over to his brother's name, as he wouldn't need it once he moved out of the country. Joe was barely tired, the homework load enormous, but things his father had made him memorize when he was barely a teen, so it came easy to him and he was usually able to fall asleep quickly.

He'd beaten his alarm awake, feeling more rested than usual, and drove to school, intending to spend time in the library before classes. He grabbed his bookbag and walked inside, approaching his locker just as Kotaru was putting a letter inside.

"Good morning," Joe greeted warmly and Kotaru yelped, stepping back and dropping his letter.

"I-I'm sorry," the man yelped, an adorable blush staining his cheeks. Up close, Joe's breath caught in his throat. Kotaru had blue eyes. "M-Mr. Kido, correct?"

It took a moment for Joe to find his voice again. "Y-yes. Your name is, ah, Kotaru?"

The man smiled, and Joe tried not to get lost in those eyes, as blue as Matt's had ever been. "You've read my letters, haven't you?"

"I have," Joe agreed. "And I'm really flattered, but -"

"Will you have dinner with me?" Kotaru asked loudly, rushed, as though if he didn't say the words fast enough they wouldn't come out.

"I'm..." This wasn't Matt, as much as those eyes sparkled with the same sapphire shimmer. "I'm sorry, but I can't."

"I... I see..." Joe hated when he had to turn people down. But he couldn't make himself unavailable in the barest off chance that... "I apologize for the intrusion, then..."

Joe watched as Kotaru turned quickly, almost running away. He hated having to break hearts and continued to curse Rini every day, imagining that she was the one that went to his every school and hospital and clinic to tell the biggest gossips there that he was gay. How else would everyone know?

Kotaru was upset the rest of the day, though he tried not to let Joe know it. But he no longer stared, he no longer sighed, and he didn't approach at lunch to sit nearby. Joe wished he could apologize, but he didn't want him to think there was something that would come of it.

At least, not until Mimi called that afternoon. She was sniffling when he answered.

"Joe, I..."

He wanted to say something to cheer her up, make a joke about women calling him at the time, crying, when she said, "I just heard..."

"Heard what?" Had someone told her about Aiko? He opened his mouth to explain, that it was just a one-night thing.

"Matt got married. He and Sora are going to have a baby."

Joe didn't say anything. He _couldn't_ say anything. For years, he'd hoped and he'd dreamed. He'd spent nights working up the courage to tell the man his feelings only to chicken out the next morning. He'd clung to that desperate thought, that Matt was just too shy, that he loved Joe the same way.

"I'm so sorry, Joe," Mimi was saying. "I just thought you'd want to know..."

He didn't want to be rude, but there was nothing left to say. He hung up the phone as Mimi sniffled again and shoved it deep into his bookbag. He didn't want to see it, to be tempted to call the number and demand the truth.

Instead, he walked to his locker, past it really, to another blue eyed man

"Kotaru?" Joe asked softly. "I, I was wondering... Is that offer for dinner still open?"

* * *

If they had dinner, Joe didn't remember it. Anything resembling a date, he had only sat through, spending the whole time staring into beautiful blue eyes. What he did remember was pressing Kotaru up against the wall, tongues entangled in each other as he fumbled for his keys. If Shin was home, he didn't care, so lost in the other man. The door fell open and they stumbled inside, Kotaru's jacket left at the restaurant and Joe's shirt and pants unbuttoned from the car. It took everything Joe had to remember that he had a bed, much less a room, and they stumbled, laughing like giddy teens, into the bedroom.

Kotaru grabbed Joe and pulled him close, hands running up and down Joe's body in fiery touches that left him craving more, wanting more than what he'd had when he was eleven. He pushed the blue eyed man down in his bed, telling him to wait a moment. He had seen condoms in the bathroom, leftover from when Shuu still lived there, and he'd never thought to toss them. They were expired but not dry, and as Joe returned to the bed and his waiting lover, he grabbed the corner of a Teenage Wolves poster and ripped it in half as he passed, throwing it to the floor.

Kotaru was a fun distraction, but after a few days, he began to realize that was all he was. Joe wanted to be sad, to be upset when the blue eyed man broke up with him. But he was numb, completely frozen to the core, and all he did when Kotaru walked away was grab the next letter from his locker and find the matching author.


	12. Chapter 12

_I won't beg you to stay with me_

* * *

2020

Over the years, Nana learned to call him when he was, as she called it to his irritation, "between distractions". She shared everything of Aiko with him, starting with demanding he be there when she gave birth.

"As moral support," she'd told her mother. When the blue haired, black eyed baby had been delivered and put into her arms, however, Nana had sighed. "I wish he looked at least a _bit_ more like me. At least attempt to keep the story that he's Shinjiro's..."

But her mother said nothing, and the father's name on the certificate was left blank, so everyone could continue to pretend that the poor deceased was the child's father.

And Joe found himself, not in the role of father, but of babysitter, of guardian, of uncle. Nana took daily photos of her baby, sending them to Joe at all hours of the day. It was almost to the point that some of the men he so-called "dated" thought that he was cheating on his wife.

"She's just a friend who loves her baby," he would say when they came up for air. Then he would turn his phone off, and Nana would yell at him the next day for ignoring her.

Shin left for South America the day after he turned twenty nine and graduated. Letters came weekly about the good he was doing for children in poverty stricken countries. He was learning Spanish and Portuguese quickly, surrounded by people who only spoke those languages. Shuu and Jun arrived almost two months after Shin left, the oldest taking over Shin's old room while Jun stayed with her widower brother and nephew for a while.

"We're going to get a house," Shuu said early one morning as his brother yawned and nodded. Joe tried his best to keep from bringing men over while his brother was staying with him, but he sometimes forgot. The first time he'd stumbled into the apartment with his hand down an attractive blonde's pants had been a shock, sure, for Shuu, but they'd quickly realized their schedules wouldn't match up too often, so the risk of another such embarrassing incident was low.

The night before, Joe had been in bed with a handsome man who had demonstrated exactly _why_ he was so popular with the late night bar crowds, and Joe made a mental note that he needed another box of condoms as Shuu spoke.

"Somewhere out in the country, away from all this city... mess." Joe wanted to tell Shuu he wasn't doing drugs, that he was just having a bit of fun, but just like everyone else, Shuu wouldn't believe him. "We know what we're looking for, so we shouldn't have to stay too long."

"You're my brother," Joe said, finally looking at Shuu. He was tired from his nightly escapades, wondering how Matt had done it in high school, but he knew he was being as safe as he could. "I love you, and you're always welcome to visit."

And then they'd hugged, something Joe couldn't remember ever doing so with his oldest brother.

Within a few weeks, Shuu and Jun were gone. Moved out to the middle of nowhere, just like when they'd traveled Europe together. And before Joe could throw himself back into his life of almost-random, nearly-anonymous sex, Nana took it upon herself to visit every chance she got.

"Grandma's living out in Shimane, now," she said when Aiko was two. He had always been a quiet baby, looking around the world through glasses just like Joe always had. Nana loved taking her old pink hat from when she was a teen and plunking it on his head to keep him warm. "So little Aiko needs to spend more time with his Godfather, isn't that right, sweetie?"

"Don't we need to have a church proclaim me 'Godfather'?" Joe asked, encouraging his son to play with the white seal plushie Nana had bought.

"Whatever," Nana had said, and then she'd laughed. "Hey, Joe, I'm going to be pulling a few overnights at the clinic in a week. D'ya think you can take Aiko then? Keep him safe, and all that?"

He knew what she was asking, and he stuck his tongue out at her. "I'm not going to bring boyfriends home when I'm taking care of Aiko."

"I don't care about boyfriends," Nana laughed as Aiko grabbed Joe's glasses and switched them with his own. "It's all those f-buddies." She looked at Joe and gave him a tiny smile. "I worry about you, you know. You're Aiko's 'uncle'."

"I'm fine," Joe reassured, looking through Aiko's tiny glasses back at the toddler who giggled and crooned. "I drink a little, but I don't get drunk. I don't do drugs, and I don't always sleep with them on the first date. I do have _some_ standards."

" _I_ remember," Nana said, fishing in Aiko's diaper bag to find his snacks. "Just be sure that _you_ do."

And so it was, as Nana got more and more work, that she would drop Aiko off with Joe more and more often. Overnight shifts, double shifts, even some nights where she just went out with her friends to complain about her lack of boyfriends since Shinjiro died; she knew she could trust Joe with his son, though they never quite said it that way.

"Big brother is going to watch you for the night," Nana told Aiko when he was seven. Joe wondered often how much the boy knew, as he'd seen him one day looking through an old photo album where Joe had stashed the original sonogram image. "Now, you have everything you need? Mama's hat and little Sesame Seed?"

Aiko nodded, his mother's faded pink hat on his head and his once-white seal clutched in his arms. He hugged his mother tightly and looked to Joe, the older man his spitting image.

"C'mon, Aiko," Joe said, reaching out and letting the boy take his hand on his own. "I got your room all fixed up for you, just like you like it."

"Here's his bag, _Dr._ Kido," Nana teased, setting a blue and gray duffel on the couch. Joe had only just graduated and become an M.D. a few weeks ago, and was already on his way to becoming the JFCR's most promising brain surgeon. "It has a change of clothes and his toothbrush. You have a nightlight in his room, right?"

"Of course," Joe told her, with a roll of his eyes. He wasn't one to make a fuss over being called 'doctor' and Nana knew it. "You act like I haven't had Aiko over before."

"Sorry," Nana giggled. She reached up to tuck back her hair, the half-butterfly clip slowly losing its strength to hold her bangs. "I'm in the running for Head Nurse, and I really don't want to blow it. Give Mama kissies."

Aiko giggled as Nana smothered his face and top of his head with kisses, making loud suckery noises at him like she always did. She hugged him tight and straightened her scrubs, finally leaving. Despite her ambition to be head nurse, she hated having to leave Aiko behind.

"So, Aiko," Joe began as he grabbed his child's bag. It would be placed in Shin's old room, the space long since converted to Aiko's bedroom. "How's school been?"

"I'm doing really good," Aiko said with a bright smile. "I'm the tallest kid in second grade."

_You'll be the tallest until high school, if you're any_ more _like me,_ Joe thought, but he didn't say that outloud. Aiko already had a father: a wonderful man named Shinjiro who would have loved his son, had he not been taken so early.

Aiko looked up and asked politely, "How have your boyfriends been?"

Joe almost laughed at the straightforward question. Though he was careful and never brought men home when Aiko was visiting, he didn't hide his preferences around him. And the child, raised in such open environments, never thought to judge. "They're doing just fine. So, what did you want to do today? Watch TV? Read a book?"

Aiko was smart, vastly intelligent, and Joe was careful to cultivate without being overbearing. The last thing he wanted was for his son to fear the sound of a deadbolt on the outside of his room as he was forced to study over and over.

"I want to watch TV," Aiko decided.

"Ah, you're up for some cartoons?"

"No." Aiko sat on the couch, finding the remote. "There's a documentary on sea turtle migration today, and I want to see the second part of it."

That was to say, Aiko didn't hate studying at all. Unlike Joe, who had been forced to be the overachiever, Aiko was willing to do it all on his own.

"All right, then, " Joe laughed, ruffling Aiko's blue hair. "But I want to hear you make a ruckus – I'm not your mother and I won't allow perfection in _my_ house."

Aiko just rolled his eyes at the joke and pulled out a thick book of Shakespearean plays. "If I draw on the walls, will you read an act to me?"

"Use Sharpie and I'll read you a whole play."

* * *

" _Your_ child is very odd," Joe told Nana the next morning when she arrived to pick him up. He was still wearing an old pair of slacks he used to sleep in and had just thrown on a wrinkled dress shirt to answer the door.

Nana tried to laugh, but ended up yawning. "What did he do this time? Recite the names of all the different types of sea mammals?"

Joe invited her inside and she sat at the table next to Aiko who was finishing his bowl of corn flakes. The boy had awoken before Joe and fixed his own breakfast, only calling for help when he was too small to reach the cabinet with the sugar.

"Nothing of the sort," Joe said, making himself and his friend coffee. Nana was fussing with Aiko's hat, smiling and hugging him tight as though she'd been gone a week instead of overnight. "He only made me read him about half of Othello. In English. _Shakespearean_ English."

"Really? Othello?" Nana pouted at her son who was smiling proudly into his spoon. "And yet you make _me_ read you A Midsummer Night's Dream. I swear, you love your Uncle Joe more than you love me. Oh, thank the gods, coffee."

Joe grinned as Nana almost burned her tongue on her drink, sneering at it. "How was it last night?"

"Ten car pileup at midnight," Nana said, impatiently blowing on her coffee. "I helped with stitches all night and we even managed to reattach a foot someone lost. We're thinking he'll even get to keep it."

"I'm glad you helped someone's feet," Aiko said, hugging his mother as he stood to run his bowl to the sink. He tried to reach the faucet to wash it, but Joe took it from him.

"You've been enough of a helper lately. Why don't you and your mother go watch TV for a bit, hm?"

"But I made the mess, I need to clean it," Aiko pouted. He hated being told _not_ to help.

"You can't win, Joe. I've tried, but he always manages to out-do-gooder me, the thoughtful little brat. Besides, as much as I would love to laze around until my next shift tomorrow, I need to go home and do some laundry. All my scrubs have had some kind of bodily fluid spewed on them by now."

"I understand. I have to get ready for my own shift in an hour, anyway." Nana stood and he hugged her tight, patting Aiko on the top of his head. "I'll be out until tonight, but there's a spare key under the mat if you two need anything. Remember where I showed you, Aiko?"

The boy nodded. He'd always been told that if anything should happen, he could always take comfort at Joe's apartment, though he was too young to understand what could ever make something like that happen. He took his mother's hand in his, secure in her safety and love, and the pair waved goodbye to Joe.

Joe yawned as he made himself another cup of coffee, drinking it as he wandered to his room to rifle through his closet. His own overnight shift rotations had ended a few days ago, and he still hadn't completely managed to change his internal schedule yet. He finished his sugar-laden caffeine and set the cup on his dresser, quickly switching out of his "lazy clothes" and into something resembling presentable. He was a doctor now, all on his own, he had to keep reminding himself. No more running to residents to double check his every move; he was the one the patients would turn to and he had to at least _look_ like he knew what he was doing.

The coffee was just barely starting to hit as he drove to the JFCR, balancing out the sugar that was making his hands shake. There was an emergency room on the first floor, and he smiled politely as he passed and walked to the elevator. The nurse at the desk just rolled his eyes, ignoring Joe as much as a nurse _could_ ignore a doctor.

Joe felt bad - of course he did - but he had very clearly told Jiro what he was and was not interested in. It wasn't Joe's fault that the overnight nurse was more his type. As the elevator dinged and rose to the third floor, Joe sighed. He would have to lay off dating nurses from the ER until things settled down, it seemed.

"Good morning, _doctor_ ," came a familiar voice as the elevator opened to his floor and Joe grinned.

"Dr. Midori! I haven't seen you in a while." Joe hurried down the hall to his old mentor, the man grasping his arms with quivering hands.

"Just 'Midori' is fine now. I retired a few years back." Midori smiled, looking at Joe's white coat with his name embroidered in fresh black thread. "I think our new generation of doctors will be just fine, however."

"You've always been liberal with praise," said Brad, one of Joe's friends, approaching from his office. The man was an American, a fresh transfer who had graduated in Joe's class, but he was just as polite as anyone else.

"Because you two have always deserved it," Midori said with a solemn nod. "Really, I can't think of one doctor here who doesn't deserve such words."

"I can think of a few," Brad grumbled, crossing his arms.

"What happened?" Joe asked. Brad wasn't one to put down his peers, so this was unusual.

"There's this guy down in Pediatrics and he's... Well, let's just say he's not fit to work with kids. A few years back, when I was doing my Pedes rotation, I was following him when he was giving this kid a shot. Just a little baby mind you, probably about two or so. He's talking with the dad, then out of nowhere, he just stabs the hell out of the kid with the needle.

"That dad," Brad sighed and shook his head. "I don't think he usually went to the doctor because he seemed like he wasn't sure if it was normal, but the jerk just told him something about kids being brats before he takes off. Poor baby probably ended up with a scar or two. I turned him into the review board, but the dad didn't complain, and I was just a student back then, so nothing ever happened."

"And just who was that?" Midori asked. If there was one thing he hated, it was doctors acting like they were above everyone else.

Brad looked away, embarrassed. "To be honest, as soon as I could get out of Pediatrics, I ran for it. I completely forgot his name – Toma or something like that."

"I'll have to look into it," Midori mumbled. "I may not have my coat anymore, but I didn't loose any of my pull. I'll check into it, see if he had any other complaints."

"I feel it takes a special kind of personality to work with kids," Joe said and Midori nodded his agreement. "My brothers almost convinced me to go into pediatrics but... I think I can help out a lot more where I am now."

Brad just laughed, slapping Joe on the shoulder. "You're just lucky because you're specialty and don't have to mingle with us 'common' doctors too often."

It was a testament to Nana's years of friendship and care as Joe easily flipped off his friend, the men laughing as the sound of a pager went off.

"Speaking of specialties," Joe said, looking at his waist. "It seems like I'm needed back downstairs."

"Good luck," Brad said. "And don't let Jiro be too much of a bitch – he's already sleeping with Minato."

"I'll keep that in mind," Joe called as he hurried to the elevator.

* * *

Joe stretched as he sat his tray down in the lunchroom, despite how early it still was. He'd already dug skull fragments out of two people's brains that day, as well as a slew of basic stitches and checkups, that he was glad to be off his feet for just a few minutes. Even Jiro on the first floor hadn't had the time to be snarky at him.

He was just about to dig into his sandwich when someone coughed politely behind him. Joe turned to look at the tall man standing there. His black hair was swept neatly to one side, a single lock curling around his dark blue eyes, lit up by a small, shy smile.

"I hope you don't mind my intrusion, doctor," he said as politely as he could with a formal bow. "But if you're not expecting company, would you mind at all if I sat here?"

"Of course not, go ahead." Joe smiled, pushing the chair opposite him out with his foot. "It'll be nice to talk to someone for a bit."

The man's eyes warmed instantly, and Joe tried not to melt. He was running out of nurses to date in the ER, so maybe a doctor from another floor...? "I'm Dr. Kido, a brain surgeon specialist."

"I'm Dr. Tomaru Itsuwari, a pediatrician." Suddenly he laughed, a warm rumbling noise that absolutely did _not_ remind Joe of Matt. "Wow, I was just looking for an empty seat, I didn't think I'd end up sitting next to a _real_ doctor. Man, surgeons are so awesome – you get to save people all the time. You're like gods, or something."

"Don't say that," Joe encouraged, blushing, as Tomaru dug into his own lunch, a fruit bowl Joe had been considering before buying his sandwich. "We're not gods at all. And pediatricians are much more important than surgeons, I believe. We just stitch 'em up and send 'em out, but you guys spend all that extra care and attention with the children."

Tomaru smiled. "You're right. I feel it takes a special kind of personality to work with kids."

Joe blinked, taking a moment before he remembered to chew. "It's funny," he said after swallowing. "I was just talking to my friend upstairs and I swear I said something like that."

"Really? I guess we must just think alike then." And then Tomaru reached out, casually placing his fingertips on Joe's knuckle. "This may seem rather forward, but I've noticed you around lately and I was wondering if you would want to go to dinner with me? I know a nice place just down the street from here. Unless, of course, you're working an overnight, in which case... breakfast?"

Joe blushed and tried to move his hand away, but Tomaru grabbed him lightly, firmly. Those blue eyes were sparkling and Tomaru grinned, a dashing, devilish smile that made Joe's insides weak.

"I-It's fine," Joe heard himself breathe, lost in that oh-so-familiar look. This was a man he could date for a while, someone he could get to know. "I actually just switched to days, so dinner would be fine."

"Perfect timing," Tomaru said, no _purred,_ as his own pager went off. He ignored it, more intent on staring into Joe's soul as he stood. "I'll meet you in the lobby, and then I'll give you a ride to the restaurant."

"Actually, I drove today, so I can meet you there if you tell me the address," Joe offered.

Tomaru's eyes flashed in the same terrible way Shou's always did, and Joe almost flinched away like when he was young. But then the look was gone, and Joe wasn't sure if he'd imagined it or not as Tomaru gave him that wonderful smile. "Of course, of course. Why don't you give me your number and I'll text it to you?"

Information was exchanged as Tomaru finally looked at his pager. "Looks like I'm needed upstairs. I'll see you tonight, Joe."

Joe watched Tomaru walk out of the cafeteria, already wondering what the other man would feel like, would taste like, when his cell phone suddenly began to ring. He jumped, wondering if Tomaru was already calling him when he saw Nana's tired grin beaming up at him.

"Nana, hey," he greeted. "Is everything ok?"

"More than all right," Nana squealed. "I finally have a date!"

"What a coincidence, so do I," Joe laughed as Nana made a noise at him.

"Yeah, well, I mean a _real_ date, not just someone to woo-hoo." Joe insisted that his was a real date too, but Nana ignored him like she usually did. "He's super sweet – American, but really quiet and nice. I agreed to come in for a few hours - you know, to save for Aiko's birthday coming up – and he came into the clinic right after I did with a laceration on his right hand. He slipped on a knife while he was cooking or something, and we got to talking while I was stitching him up. I noticed he had this really cool number thirteen tattoo on his left hand and he said it was the name of his old band back when he lived in Texas.

"Then, out of no where, he asks me out, like, to lunch later this afternoon! Ah, Joe, I'm so super stoked! I haven't been on a date since Shinji left our mortal plane." He could hear Nana bouncing where she was, chirping excitedly into her phone. "Can you believe it? Someone wants to date _me_ – a single mother who works twelve hour days!"

"That's wonderful," Joe congratulated. "You did catch his name, right? And Aiko knows about your date?"

"Of course I got his name, I'm not _you,_ you know." Joe wished he'd never told her that story and insisted it was only the one time. "It's, um... Oh jeeze, I was so excited I kinda forgot. But it's just some letters: S.U. or T.W. or something strange like that. And I'm already leaving early today, so I should be home on time even after my date."

"Well, I'm proud for you, then. And you tell S.U. or T.W. that you have friends that will stand up for you if he breaks your heart."

"Oh, please, like you know how to throw a punch." Nana laughed. "But it's still sweet of you to threaten him without even meeting him. I'll call you later and let you know how it went." And then the line went dead as she hung up.

Joe just smiled and shook his head. He hoped Nana was able to find someone that wasn't frightened off by her high status and child – she really deserved someone to treat her well. Just like he was hoping Tomaru would be the one to treat him well. He finished his lunch quickly and decided that, while he had the time, he would go to his office and review his dictations from the past few days.

His office wasn't large, but it wasn't as cramped as some he'd seen. Being a specialty surgeon sure had its perks, he supposed, smiling every time he remembered Brad's jealous looks. He kept it plain and simple: medical journals on the shelf across from him and the desk was only half-filled with assortments of pens and papers. He looked at the files he'd set in front of him, but instead of opening them, he reached into the small side drawer and pulled out a rusted monstrosity.

At one point it had been a bronzed seal, hand crafted out of old clock parts. Now, the seams where it had been welded together were rusting, rivers of green verdigris coating one flipper that had broken away when Joe had thrown it in a fit of teenage rage, mad at the wonderful blonde that had given it to him on Valentine's Day. Joe sat back in his chair, fingers running over the seal as he wondered, just like he did every time he held the treasure, why Matt had gone to all the trouble. It had been his first Valentine's Day with Sora and he'd only gotten her a heart-shaped locket, nothing special, and yet he'd given Joe something he'd created all on his own.

Joe sighed, putting the seal back in it's usual spot in his desk drawer. He was never able to tell what Matt was thinking, especially when it came to Sora. The pair had bundled themselves away from the rest of the Children. For a while, Joe had thought that they had moved to America for Matt to follow his dream of working at NASA, but Izzy, through Kari, had found out that they were still in Odaiba. They just... didn't interact with anyone else anymore.

Joe had just grabbed his first file and flipped it open when he was suddenly plunged into darkness. All the lights in his office shut off, and he heard the popping sound of his desklamp burning out. Just as he was about to curse, to pull out his cell phone and call maintenance, there was a deep hum and, one by one, his lights came back on.

"What just happened?" Joe asked outloud. The clock on his desk was flashing, but not 12:00 like it usually did after a power outage.

"1:13?" Joe looked at his cell phone, the 24-hour clock reading back to him 13:13. "How weird..."

The doctor stood, intending to find out if his assistance would be needed. For the power to flicker in a hospital, something bad was sure to happen. He shut his office door behind him and looked up. The decorative sconce by his door was flickering, the lightbulb inside on the verge of popping like his lamp had.

"Hey, Joe," he heard Brad call from down the hall. "You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Joe said distractedly. He pulled his attention away from the hall light and looked to his friend. "Is everything all right?"

Brad just blinked. "Of course we're good. Why, what's going on?"

"The power outage," Joe insisted. "We can't just be 'good' after that."

"There was no power outage..." Brad said slowly, quirking an eyebrow. "It's not even raining or anything outside."

"But my office..." Joe looked inside through the window on his door. His lamp was still out and his clock couldn't be seen from the hallway. "I just had my lights flicker."

"Probably just the wiring in there," Brad told him with a shrug. "You should call maintenance to check up on it – there might be a fire hazard in those walls."

"Y-yeah..." Joe shook his head as the light by his door finally evened out to a steady glow. "I'll go do that right away... Actually, while they're in there, I'll do some clinic hours – I need to pass the time before my date tonight."

"Is this one going to be a _date_ -date? Or another one like with Jiro?" Brad laughed as they began to walk to the elevator.

"You and Nana," Joe sighed with a smile. "When will you two believe that I _can,_ in fact, have a relationship?"

"Once you've finished your rounds on the oncology nurses should suffice for me," Brad laughed and Joe glared. "But seriously, I hope you have fun. Who is it with?"

"Ah, his name is Tomaru." Joe looked closely at Brad as he frowned suddenly. "Everything ok?"

It took a moment for Brad to blink back to reality. "Oh, yeah, sure. It's just... that name sounds really familiar..."


	13. Chapter 13

_Through the tears of the day_

_Of the years baby_

* * *

2020

Joe wondered if he had dressed appropriately. Tomaru had never told him what kind of restaurant they were going to, so he had put on his nicest pair of black slacks he had stashed in his locker and a silver dress shirt. He had struggled with the decision to wear a black tie, and then struggled to knot it properly, so much so that he feared he would be late. But Tomaru wasn't there yet, so Joe stood at the front desk, ignoring the way Jiro's glare made his shoulders burn.

Just as the nurse approached and asked as snidely as he could, "Can I help you, _doctor_?" Tomaru stepped off the elevator. The man was dressed in the same khakis and white button up as he had been in at lunch, but he had combed his hair and even put a bit of style to it, spiking it up in a hauntingly familiar way that Joe couldn't quite place.

"Are you ready?" Tomaru asked, pointedly draping his arm around Joe's waist. "My car is just down this way," he said, pulling his date along.

"Oh, ah, remember?" Joe asked, pulling away. As nice as it was to rub it in Jiro's face, he was embarrassed at the familiarity of the touch with someone he'd only met a few hours ago. "I was going to follow you in my car? You even texted me the address." Joe didn't want to add that Tomaru had texted him almost every ten minutes to remind him of their upcoming date.

There was a moment's pause, just long enough to be noticeable without being awkward before Tomaru broke into a relaxed smile. "Of course, of course. I was just so excited, I almost forgot. It's not too far of a drive, do you want me to follow you?"

"I should be fine," Joe insisted. "Go on and I'll meet you there."

Tomaru nodded, gently brushing Joe's bangs back with his fingertip before walking out of the hospital. Joe could practically hear Jiro seething behind him and he fought back a smile as his phone _ping_ ed with a new text.

" _I'll be waiting"_ it read from the number he'd yet to add as Tomaru's and Joe bit his tongue. He'd have to tell Tomaru not to text him so much.

The drive was indeed short, and despite being told to go first, Joe could see Tomaru's red sports car in his rearview mirror the whole time; the man following just close enough to not let anyone get between them. The restaurant, however, was nowhere near as fancy as Joe had thought and he was almost embarrassed to be seen as he subtly tried to remove his tie. It was closer to a diner, the greasy smell bringing back memories, both unpleasant and wonderful, and Tomaru quickly dragged him to a booth near the back. The early summer heat was already building, and the small diner was quickly making them both sweat.

"Isn't this place wonderful?" Tomaru asked, leaning forward. He'd sat across from Joe, and there was a bright light in his eyes, a wide smile on his face. "My parents met here, in this very booth, you can even see where they carved their names." Tomaru pointed to a place on the table, a small heart surrounding the sharp-lined initials J.I. and E.M. "So I thought it would be perfect for us."

"Perfect?" Joe wondered, biting his lip. This wasn't going anything like he expected.

"Of course – it was the start of their relationship and it'll be the start of ours. And later, I can take you to where my dad proposed to my mom and even the spot in the park where they first..." Tomaru quirked his eyebrows and Joe tried not to blush at the implication. "What do you think?"

Joe tried to laugh, but the noise came out more like a strangled gurgle. "L-let's just get through this date fist, shall we?"

The light in Tomaru's eyes didn't dim at all, and Joe swallowed harshly. A waitress walked up to them, her bright yellow skirt a pleasant distraction from Tomaru's intense gaze.

"Hey there boys, I'm Starla and I'll be your waitress." She took the menus from under her arm and held them out. "Just give these a once over and I'll -"

"Actually," Tomaru said, not looking at Starla at all. "I already know what we'll be having. I'll get the chili-cheese fries, chili on the side, and a medium strawberry shake with extra cream. And my date will have the fried shrimp lunch special with a large lemon tea."

Starla hesitated for a moment, the menus still in her outstretched hand. "Sir, we actually stopped serving the lunch specials almost an hour ago..."

Tomaru finally tore his eyes away from Joe to fix a glare on the waitress so full of malice that she physically stepped back. "I don't _care_ when you stopped serving it – it's not like you _ran out_ of shrimp, did you?!"

Joe rushed to the waitress's defense, her eyes tearing up like Mimi's used to and he found that protectiveness inside him he thought he'd lost. "It's ok, Tomaru, it really is. I'm highly allergic to shrimp anyway. And I really don't care much for lemon tea."

The rage that had filled Tomaru left him suddenly, and he grabbed Joe's hands in his, pleading softly, "Oh, Joe, I'm _so_ sorry – I had no idea!"

"I promise, it's fine," Joe insisted. He smiled at the waitress who was trying to hide that she was wiping her eyes. "Just a dry salad is good." Starla nodded, taking off to the kitchen as fast as she could.

"I'm sorry," Tomaru continued to say. He looked on the verge of tears. "I just wanted our first date to be special, and that's what my parents got when they came here and -"

"Tomaru," Joe chided. He smiled as he realized that the other man was just as nervous about their relationship as he was. "This date _is_ special, because I'm here with you. That's all it needs to be, right?"

Tomaru blinked, sitting back with a strange smile. "You're right. Of course you're right. All we need is to be together. And we'll continue to be together forever."

* * *

Joe was tired when he pulled up to his apartment. He'd seen Tomaru's sports car behind him all the way to the gate of his complex, driving on past Joe when he turned, as though this was a common way home for him. It might have been, Joe told himself, parking and grabbing his jacket. He'd never noticed Tomaru before and had no idea where the man lived, after all.

The rest of their date hadn't gone terribly, and there were no more odd outbursts from the man. Joe decided he was unused to dating, an adorable perfectionist who tired too hard. Just like Joe used to be.

He walked up the stairs to his apartment, just on the second floor, and fished in his pockets for his keys when he saw that his welcome mat was askew. He bent over to flip it up, noticing the missing key. He wondered if Nana had come over, remembering suddenly that she'd promised to call him. The whole time he was with Tomaru his phone had been silent, only lighting up with calls and texts the moment they separated in the parking lot.

He cracked open his unlocked door, calling out tentatively, "Nana? Are you there?"

No response made him nervous. He wondered if it really was Nana, or if he'd managed to walk into a break-in. There hadn't been one at this complex before, which is why he was still there, but that just meant he was overdue for one.

"Nana...?"

He heard a whimper and a sniffle from Aiko's room and he hurried over, throwing open the door. "Aiko?! What's wrong? Where's your mother?"

The boy was curled up on his bed. There was no evidence of his usual overnight bag, and he was dirty, almost like he'd run across town instead of being dropped off. Aiko looked up, tears streaming down his cheeks and he reached out desperately for Joe to hug him.

"I-I..." Aiko sniffled, rubbing his nose on Joe's sleeve as the man held him tight. "I don't know. Mommy s-said she was gonna come home but, but..." Aiko wailed loudly and Joe pulled him into his lap. "I don' know where Mommy went!"

Joe hushed Aiko, bouncing him lightly. He hadn't seen his son cry since he was three, and only then because he had stumbled and hit his head on the floor. "It's ok, Aiko, it's ok. Nana went in today, didn't she tell you?"

Aiko nodded, his glasses covered in tears. "She said she was gonna be back for lunch. And I h-haven't seen her since..."

"Calm down, Aiko," Joe shushed gently. He patted Aiko's hair down, rubbing his back gently. "She told me she was going on a date after work. I'm sure she just lost track of time." Aiko just sobbed and Joe knew it sounded wrong. Nana never let anything come between her and her son. "Here, let's give her a call - she'll be so happy to hear from you, I promise."

Aiko watched, still clinging to Joe, as the man canceled the latest call from Tomaru, quickly tapping Nana's number. The phone rang and rang, and the longer it took, the more Aiko's eyes filled with worried tears. Finally it clicked, the woman's voice ringing sweetly, "You've reached Nana Terrano. I'm sorry, but I can't come to the-"

Joe hung up on the machine, and tried again. It beeped as Tomaru called, and Joe angrily swiped it away as Aiko shook in Joe's arms.

"You've reached Nana Terrano. I'm sorry -"

Again Joe tried.

"You've reached -"

Joe cursed and Aiko whined miserably into his chest. He wished he would have asked Nana where she was going on her date so he could track her down and demand answers.

"Mommy..." Aiko whimpered and Joe held him tight.

"It's ok, Aiko. Why don't you stay here the night?" Joe tried. He hoped his anger at Nana wasn't showing through and scaring the child. "We'll get you all tucked in, and I'll try and get hold of your mother for you. Where's Sesame Seed, did you bring him with you?"

"No," Aiko whined, clinging tighter. "I wanna stay with you."

"Ok, ok." Joe shifted Aiko so he could carry the boy to his room. At seven, Aiko was getting heavy, but Joe knew the need for love and comfort. "I have a shirt you can sleep in, and you can stay with me all night."

"And Mommy...?"

"I'll do my best to get hold of her." Joe smiled, taking Aiko's glasses and cleaning them on his shirt. "But don't worry, Nana will be so mad at herself for ignoring her phone that she'll get you your birthday presents early, I'm sure."

But no matter how many time Joe called, Nana never picked up. As Aiko passed out next to him in his bed, still crying even in his sleep, Joe left quiet messages that grew angrier and more upset, almost waking the boy a few times, until her voicemail box filled up. He sighed and set his phone aside, watching it light up over and over from calls from Tomaru until it died. He should have answered, talked to the man and let him know what had happened, Joe thought as he fell asleep. But he was just so upset with Nana for ignoring her child...

* * *

Joe fully expected for Nana to be on his doorstep the next day, apologizing over and over for not showing up as she hugged Aiko tight enough to pop his head off. He expected Aiko to be up and about, on his usual morning routine that began before Joe awoke.

But when the man opened his eyes, Aiko was still curled into his side, tears dried on his cheeks. When he finally plugged in his phone and turned it back on, there were no messages from Nana. He pulled the covers tight over Aiko as he slipped from his room to start breakfast. His anger from the previous night was gone, replaced with a hollow worry.

Had something happened to Nana? To her mother? It was possible, he supposed, that something had happened out in Shimane and Nana had left. From what he remembered Matt telling him about the country life, there were barely computers around, much less cell phone towers. Certainly once she had signal again, she would call and everything would be laughed off.

The scent of egg must have reached the bedroom, as Aiko wandered down the hall, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. He was clutching one of Joe's pillows in place of his seal plush, and still sniffling.

"Is Mommy ok?" he asked as he sat at the table. Joe brought him an omelet and pet his hair comfortingly.

"I'm sure she is," Joe said, and even at his young age, Aiko knew what that meant. He hadn't talked to her yet. "But what we're going to do, is we're going to take you to the police station," Joe told him. "And we going to talk to the nice people there and see if they've heard from her." If something _had_ happened in Shimane, they were sure to know about it.

Aiko paused for a long time before nodding. He picked up his fork and began to eat, very slowly. Joe wished he had something more encouraging to say, but the only things he had left were lies.

Neither of them ate very much, stomachs already full of stress and worry, and Joe let Aiko bathe while he hunted for a spare set of clothes hidden in the laundry basket. They weren't too dirty, much cleaner than what his son had been in the night before, and Joe laid them out. He stood over the small bed, arms wrapped about himself. What was he going to do? Aiko didn't have friends out in Shimane – the boy had never visited the country, he knew. Nana's mother had always come into town to visit them. He wanted to ask Nana, when they got hold of her, if she would let Aiko stay with him for a while, but he was certain that would be out of the question. Nana was surely having a family crisis, and she needed her family about her.

"Dr. Kido?" came a small voice from the hall, and Joe jumped. He didn't even realize he'd been crying until Aiko hugged him. "It'll be ok, Dr. Kido."

"I know," Joe said, smiling back his worry. "Get dressed, and we'll get going."

* * *

Aiko knew he was too big to be carried, so instead he held Joe's hand the whole way. He refused to let go even when they got in the car, and held it tight when they walked up to the police station. It was a lot like when he visited his mother at the nurse's station, all loud yelling and phones ringing constantly. There were people around, scary people, smelly people, and sad people, all of them talking to different men and women dressed in the dark blue uniforms he'd always been told he could trust.

Joe held him close as he walked inside. He'd never been in a police station before, and the bustle wasn't unlike the hospital ER. He bit his lip as he tried to figure out what to do, what to say to get someone's attention, when a familiar voice called out, "Joe? Is that you?"

Joe turned, and he felt himself sag with relief. It was Ken, grown tall and sturdy. He had a police badge on a chain around his neck and instead of the uniform, he wore jeans and a button up shirt, a brown trench coat draped over his arm. There was a tired, yet satisfied look to his eyes, but it was one Joe had recognized in Nana – "the price of children" she called it whenever she bundled up Aiko to take him home after a long night.

"Ah, Ken, it's good to see you. I'd almost forgotten you were an officer."

"I actually just made it to detective," Ken said. He noticed Aiko and crouched to the child's level, smiling gently. "Hi, I'm Ken Ichijouji. What's your name, buddy?"

"Aiko Terrano," the boy responded quietly, politely. "Do you know where my Mommy is?"

Ken's eyes flickered to Joe and he stood quickly. "Come on over here, Aiko, and we'll have a chat." He reached out for Aiko to take his hand, but the boy huddled closer to Joe. Ken just gave him that soft look again as Joe encouraged the boy to follow. They approached a desk, Ken's obviously by the picture of Yolie and his two children framed on it, and a young woman looked up from where she'd been reading a file. "Aiko, this is my friend, Detective Natalie Acevedo."

It was amazing how close she looked to Ken. Both of them with dark blue hair, fair skin. She was thin, but Joe could see the strength in her arms as she reached out to shake Aiko's hand.

"It's nice to meet you," she said sweetly, a bare hint of a British accent hiding in her words. She held up her badge, "Do you know what this means, sweetie?" Aiko shook his head. "It means that I'm a police officer. And it's my job to make sure you and your mum are safe. Do you want to hold it?"

Aiko hesitated for a moment. He glanced at Joe who smiled encouragingly and he let go of the man's hand, reaching out to take Natalie's badge.

"Why don't we go to that room over there? There's some coloring books and I think I can find you something to snack on," Natalie said, her focus completely on Aiko, as though there was nothing wrong. She pointed to a small room across the station, the lights warm and cozy through the windows. Aiko nodded, still looking at her badge, and he let her lead him away.

"She's very good at her job," Ken explained. "Whenever we have a case with a child, she's usually the one to do the interview." He waved his hand, inviting Joe to sit at the desk. "Tell me what happened."

"As far as I know, nothing." Joe didn't like the way Ken continued to look at him. "Aiko is my friend's child," that look didn't go away, "and we don't know where she is."

"What made you decide this was a matter for the police?" Ken asked.

"She never leaves Aiko behind without warning," Joe said. "She always lets me know what's going on, when she's bringing him by, but this time... Aiko just showed up, out of the blue. He didn't know where she went, and I haven't been able to contact her. I'm really concerned."

"Is there anything you think might have happened?" Ken pulled a notebook out of his desk, grabbing a pen.

"Her mother is out in Shimane. I thought that, maybe, something had happened either out there or on the way to..." Joe shook his head. "I've tried calling, but she's not picking up, and Aiko said she never came home work work last night..."

Ken looked up at the pause. "But...?"

Joe bit his lip, thinking. "Yesterday, when I was at work, she called me. Said she had a date – first one she's had in years. It was just so... unusual."

"She doesn't meet too many people?" Ken was writing now.

"She meets plenty – she's a nurse down at the clinic in Odaiba. Just not too many that ask her out." Joe grabbed his hair and tugged. "Oh, gods, she told me all about him too, but I wasn't paying attention. I was too busy worrying about my own failure of a date."

"Calm down." Ken reached out to touch Joe on the shoulder, a calming motion that Nana had always made. "Just think. Anything at all you can remember."

"Some foreign guy," Joe said slowly, thinking. "She was giving him stitches on his hand. He had a, uh... uh... a tattoo."

"Do you remember what it was of?"

"I... I don't remember. Something with music – a note or instrument or something.."

"Did she tell you his name?"

"Just initials. S or U or something."

"Anything else?"

Joe sat back in his chair. "I don't know... Damnit, I can't believe I screwed up again. After so long..."

"It's not your fault," Ken said. "You haven't made any mistakes."

"Of course I did," Joe grumbled. He had spent so much time trying to rebuild himself, but in one fell swoop, he knew he was wrong. That he was the screw up he'd always known he was. "If I'd only paid more attention to what Nana was saying, we'd know what happened..."

"You can't know that. She might not even be in trouble." Ken sounded about as sure as Joe ever did. "What you told me _will_ help."

Joe sighed and put his head in his hands. "But not enough... What am I going to do about Aiko...?"

"The boy's father...?"

Joe gave Ken that look Matt had always been so good at. "Isn't it obvious?" Ken tried to hide a smile. "It was a one time thing. She had a boyfriend – but they were broken up at the time, I _swear_ – and it was just easier for everyone to think he was the father. He died a few months before Aiko's birth, but we just kept it up. It seemed easier."

"Are there any siblings? Aunts or uncles? Anyone he can stay with?" Ken leaned in close. "Without his mother, we're going to want to release him to a family member, and if you're not on the birth certificate..."

Joe shook his head. "No siblings. Just the mother in Shimane, and he's never been out there." He looked at Ken. "Is he going to have to go into foster care?"

"Usually we try and place with biological parents," Ken said. His eyes flicked over to a hallway near by. "You know, our medical examiner _can_ place a rush on certain tests..."

"We... We haven't even told Aiko. Though gods know how much he's picked up on; he's just so damn _smart_..." Joe caught Ken's eye. "How fast would it take?"

"A day or so. Less time than it would take to call a social worker and find a suitable home. He can go with you tonight and by the time the social worker is alerted, we would have the results."

* * *

It was late that night, and Aiko had finally stopped crying. He lay under the covers, tucked in and still clutching Joe's pillow. Joe stood in the hallway, the boy's words still ringing in his ears.

" _I think I always knew. Even before I found the picture of me in Mommy's tummy. She always said I could trust you, Doc... Dad..."_

Joe walked down the hallway, settling into his bed with an exhausted groan. He looked over at his bedside table, at his phone that he'd left off and charging all day. He took his glasses off, folded them up and set them aside, exchanging them for his phone. The moment he turned it on, it began ringing.

"What the hell is happening?!" came the explosive voice that took Joe a moment to place. "How the _fuck_ can you completely ignore me for days?!"

"Tomaru!" Joe yelped, holding the phone away from his ear. "Tomaru, calm down!"

"Don't tell me to _fucking_ calm down!" Tomaru continued to rage. " _You_ need to tell me what the fuck is going on!"

"I-I..." Joe swallowed hard. "I don't need to tell you anything." And then he hung up.

And, to be safe, he turned his phone back off.

The next day as Joe drove in, he was nervous. He didn't see Tomaru's car behind him anywhere, but that didn't stop him from looking around. Even Jiro's nasty look at the front desk couldn't dissuade him from keeping an eye over his shoulder. The last time he'd heard anyone as mad as Tomaru had been, he'd ended up in the hospital, missing a tooth and almost his life.

The third floor was safe, but even so he held his breath. He jumped at every noise, flinched at every shadow. Even the flickering light near his door scared him half to death. If Tomaru was in his office, if he was waiting inside, angry as hell...

Joe cracked the door open, ready to run in the opposite direction. When there was no screaming, no sudden fist in his face, he opened it further, stepping inside hesitantly.

Sitting on his desk, next to the brunt out lamp, was a huge floral arrangement. Two, maybe three, dozen dark red roses in a giant glass vase, drooping with bright greenery and soft puffs of baby's breath. There was a tiny card placed between two rose heads, and as Joe reached out to take it, he jumped at a gentle cough.

"T-Tomaru!" Joe yelped. He threw himself back against the wall, almost tripping over his own feet.

Tomaru stepped out from behind the shadow of the door, eyes cast to the floor. In his shaking hand, he held a single rose, just as deep in color as the ones in the vase.

"Joe, I..." He took a shuddering breath, and Joe could see tears rolling down his cheeks. "I'm really, really sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you, I just... You seemed to fall off the face of the planet the other day – I was _worried_ about you. It just came out all wrong."

Joe took the rose gently and looked to the man. He was so broken, so down on himself. It reminded him so much of Matt, and he knew he couldn't separate those feeling from the ones he knew he could have now.

"Tomaru..."

"I knew it!" Tomaru sobbed. He smacked the heels of his palms against his forehead. "I knew I screwed up. I... I... I really like you, Joe. Hell, I _love_ you, Joe!"

Love? So early? Joe blushed, as he thought to himself, _I knew_ I _was in love quickly..._

"Tomaru, I..." Joe took a breath. He knew what to say. What he _had_ to say. "I love you, too."

"Oh, Joe, thank you." Tomaru threw his arms around Joe's shoulders, squeezing him tightly. "I knew we were perfect for each other." He grinned, saying breathlessly into Joe's ear, "I'll see you tonight. Our second date – I'll make this one better than our first."

And then Tomaru kissed him. Deep and passionate and Joe...

Felt nothing.

When he pulled away, Joe made himself smile. Made himself hug back Tomaru tightly, thinking about this latest mistake. And as Tomaru left Joe's office, he left a red handprint on the knob. The same blood that smeared on the door was still dripping off the thorns of the rose in Joe's hand.


	14. Chapter 14

_Just call me angel of the morning, Angel_

_Just touch my cheek before you lave me, baby_

* * *

2020

Joe sat in Tomaru's car outside the restaurant. He had his hands in his lap, fingers intertwined tightly. They had been sitting there for almost an hour now, their reservations long since past, and Tomaru was still yelling. He had it in his head that Joe was cheating on him. Again.

"I keep telling you, it was _nothing_ ," Joe had to insist softly, over and over. "I had to call a nurse into the room, she had to insert an IV, and then she was gone. That's _it._ You _know_ I don't like women anyway."

"I saw the way she was looking at you," Tomaru snarled. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles were white and throbbing. "And don't tell me you weren't looking back at her!"

"I _had_ to – she was trying to stick the damn needle in his thigh, not his arm!"

Tomaru whipped his head around, and he lifted one fist. Joe flinched away, raising his arms to protect his face, but Tomaru didn't hit him. He never did. Instead, he waited until Joe just began to shake before lowering his hand back to the wheel.

"I don't want to see you talking to that woman ever again," he hissed lowly. "Call any other nurse next time, but _not her_."

Joe wanted to tell him that he had no control of the nurses. He wanted to tell him that he was only trying to assist a new nurse, stressed on her first day. He wanted to ask when Tomaru had seen him interact with the nurse. Instead, he just looked to his lap and nodded obediently. If he opened his mouth now, he would only have another bruise to hide from Aiko's watchful eye.

"Great," Tomaru spat. "We missed dinner. _Thanks a lot_ , Joe – now we're going to have to starve all night." He started the car, peeling out of the spot without even looking back into the street. Another car behind him honked angrily, but Tomaru ignored them, speeding off toward the hospital. Joe never let Tomaru pick him up at his home, preferring to meet the man in the parking lot. He was glad, somewhere deep beneath the familiar fear, as he had no idea what Tomaru would think of Aiko. He'd never told anyone at the hospital about the boy – not even Brad knew. And the way Tomaru acted when he thought he was just _looking_ at someone else...

The only police car they passed had already pulled someone else over, though the officer gave them a dirty look as they flew by. For a moment, Joe missed Ken, wondering if the detective would ever get back to him. It had been almost two weeks, and there was still no word from Nana.

They pulled up to the hospital, driving through the parking garage until they found Joe's car. The doctor reached for the door just as it _click_ ed locked. Tomaru reached across the console, very gently placing his hand on Joe's thigh.

"Joe..." Tomaru breathed, voice soft and apologetic. "I... You know I didn't mean any of that stuff I said. And you _know_ I'd never hurt you..."

Joe licked his lips. He didn't know, not completely. But if he didn't respond, he was sure to find out. "It's ok, Tomaru. I... I promise I'll do my best to stay away from Nurse Tsuma."

Tomaru's hand tightened, and Joe knew he made another mistake. "You... You know her name?"

"It was her first day," Joe said quickly. "Brad took her around, introduced her to everyone."

"God damnit, Joe, I told you I didn't want you talking to Brad, either! Can't you _listen_ to a fucking word I say?" Tomaru shook away the glare, exchanging the look for his usual dashing smile that had ensnared Joe in the first place. "No. No, that's not what I wanted to say. I... I wanted this date to be special – it's our fourth, you know."

Joe wished it hadn't gotten this far. He wished he had a way of breaking this off without sending Tomaru into another of his rages. He hid his shudder as Tomaru moved his fingers up further, moved closer.

"To be really special..." he was murmuring. Joe tried to pull away as Tomaru leaned over, kissing him.

"N-no," Joe tried to say. He put his hands on Tomaru's shoulders and tried to push him away. "Stop it."

Tomaru reached out, grabbed between his legs harshly and Joe whimpered. "This date is going to go how I fucking _planned_ it."

Joe was still restrained by his seat belt, but Tomaru never wore his, so he easily leaned over him. He forced his lips against Joe's, tongue invading his mouth and hands running over his body. Joe never had a problem with sleeping with men before – since Matt had been married, he'd almost gone off the deep end – but he'd always made sure it was ok first. Even after drinking, Joe always had the courtesy to ask. This time, though, with Tomaru climbing all over him, holding him down so he couldn't move...

Joe was terrified. He wanted to be anywhere else than where he was then. He wanted to be home with Aiko, to run into Nana in the street. He didn't want to be under his boyfriend who was biting his throat harsh enough to leave bruises, ripping his shirt open with a scatter of buttons.

" _It was terrible,"_ a tiny, scared voice said in his mind. A voice he hadn't heard in over twenty years. _"She made me... do these awful things... I just wanted to die, so much, and I was only five..."_

He became a surgeon to protect more children from such horrors. He became a doctor to save lives, not just physical, but emotional. He couldn't let himself break down here, he had to find the strength he had back then.

He bit Tomaru's shoulder harshly, tasting blood. The man screamed, more in surprise than pain, and pulled back enough for Joe to fumble with the door lock. He almost fell out of the car and he ran to his own. He threw himself in the driver's seat and flew out of his parking spot faster than Tomaru had ever driven. He looked in his mirrors more than he looked at the road before him, but there was no red sports car chasing him down, no enraged boyfriend threatening to find him. Even his phone was completely silent.

He made it past the gate, stopped in his usual spot, and only then realized he'd forgotten his seat belt. He clicked the release button anyway, trying to act as though he hadn't been terrified. He locked the door and shut it, then used his keys to unlock it. He walked away a few steps before running back and locking it again.

It wasn't until he was fumbling with his front door, dropping his keys so many times he was tempted to use the emergency key under the mat, that he realized he'd left his coat in the back seat of Tomaru's car.

"I'll get a new one," he mumbled to himself. It would be easier to be yelled at by Jiro for having to order a new coat than it would be to ever talk to Tomaru again.

The door finally opened and he flew inside, worried he'd heard footsteps behind him. He locked the deadbolt, the security bolt, and even the chain latch he never used. His hands were shaking and he was breathing hard, like he'd run a marathon instead of a flight of stairs.

"Dad...?" came a soft, sniffling voice.

Joe turned to look over his shoulder. Aiko stood at the edge of the hallway, eyes red as he cried softly into Sesame Seed. Ken had taken Aiko to Nana's apartment to collect a few things while he stayed at Joe's, and the plush had been the first thing he'd grabbed.

"Aiko, what happened?" Forgetting his own bruises, his own pain, Joe hurried to his son, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Y-you said you'd be home... You never c-came home, and, and I... I th-thought that..." Aiko sobbed, dropping Sesame Seed so he could cling to his father. Joe didn't need Aiko to finish telling him – Nana had promised to come home, and she never did.

"I'm so, so sorry, Aiko," Joe breathed. "It won't happen again – I _swear_ it won't." He remembered Tomaru's voice, the same words dripping from his lips. "And I mean it."

Aiko slept next to Joe that night, sobbing himself to sleep against his father's side as a bruised hand ran through his hair comfortingly.

* * *

The next day there was another arrangement in his office. More roses than he could count, so red they were almost black, and another card. Joe had awoken that morning, determined to break it off with Tomaru. He told himself he didn't need someone who reminded him of his father, who hurt him in all the same ways Shou had, and more.

But the writing on the card was smudged, the ink running with teardrops so bad that the envelope itself had dark splotches. From what he could read, Tomaru felt horrible. He didn't mean to force Joe into anything he didn't want to do, and that he was just eager because he loved Joe so much.

Joe wanted to throw the whole thing in the trash, vase and all, but he just moved it aside. He put the card in his desk with the rest of them, and at lunch, Tomaru approached, head hung low, feet shuffling.

"Joe..." he whimpered, like a lost puppy. Like Aiko had that night thirteen days ago.

"Tomaru," Joe began. He had to stay stern, to not let himself be swayed by the pathetic blue eyes that turned on him. "Tomaru, I -"

"I'm sorry," Tomaru breathed. He almost collapsed in the chair next to Joe. He couldn't look up except for tiny glances every few moments. "Joe, I acted like a real jerk, and it was stupid of me to try and make you do that stuff – I'm sure you've never done anything like that before."

"I've had sex before," Joe said with an irritated huff. He glanced away, not noticing how Tomaru's hand suddenly dug into the chair, nails bending as they dug grooves into the old plastic. "I just don't _appreciate_ being forced."

"I wasn't trying to force you, I promise." Tomaru looked up, his lip quivering. "I just got carried away. But, but I apologized – you got my flowers, didn't you? I made sure that they got to your office before you did!"

"I did get them," Joe said. He tried not to meet Tomaru's eye. He knew if he did, it would be all over. He had to be strong – for himself. "But I can't keep putting up with this. The yelling, the fighting, the accusations! I'm sorry, Tomaru, but... I can't be with you anymore."

"No!" Tomaru barked and Joe jumped. "No – it can't end this way! Give me a chance, just one more chance!"

"Y-you've had plenty of chances, Tomaru," Joe warned, cursing how fragile his voice sounded. "You don't have anymore."

"Joe!" Tomaru grabbed the table, staring Joe down with a look of such venom, Joe physically shrunk back from it. Then, in a moment's breath, the man sank back in his chair. He slumped, almost falling over and he whispered, "Joe, I'm... I'm sorry. I know that's all you hear out of me but..." Blue eyes looked up, shining with tears. "I've been going about this all the wrong way. I've been trying to date you the way _I_ want, not the way _you_ want.

"Let me make it up to you. I'll make us dinner tonight. No more restaurants, no more dressing up – just a simple meal between two adults." Tomaru smiled, lips quivering as they tried to hold the expression.

"Tomaru, no," Joe pressed. "I told you: it's over."

"We can even go to your place," Tomaru continued, as though he hadn't heard Joe. "You'll feel more comfortable at home, right?"

"Tomaru -"

But the man was smiling, beaming at the thoughts running through his head. "I'll follow you home tonight since, you know, you never gave me your address. And then I'll make you dinner, and everything will be fixed. It'll be all right."

"T-Tomaru!" Joe sighed. It was impossible to get to the man now. "... Fine. One more chance. But the second you raise your hands or even your voice, you're _out_ , you understand?"

"I'm so glad you can see things my way," Tomaru purred. He reached out, tracing a fingertip down Joe's cheek and the man shivered. What had he gotten himself back into?

* * *

Joe was stepping off the elevator when his cell phone went off. He'd long since given Tomaru a special ringtone, a soft, quiet thing that was easy to ignore, so when the different bells dinged from his pocket, he was quick to answer.

"Joe, it's Ken," came the soft, steady voice.

"Thank the gods," Joe sighed, walking to his office. "Is everything ok? Did you find Nana?"

There was a pause. "We did."

Joe laughed, relief flooding him. "That's wonderful, Aiko will be so happy. Did she say what happened to keep her busy for two weeks?"

"Joe, are you sitting?" Ken asked, no hint of joy in his own voice.

"Do I need to?" Joe could recognize that tone as he stopped just outside his door. It was the one he had to use several times a day. The one that only meant one thing: the worst news possible.

"We found her body this morning, stabbed to death. From what our M.E. tells us, she most likely died the day she went missing."

Joe's knees were weak, and he held a hand over his mouth. Despite seeing death every day, he'd never been the one on the receiving end of the news. "How... How did you know it was her?" He knew how bodies rotted, had learned it while studying in the morgue, and knew it was hard to tell who they had been after a certain amount of time.

"We called her mother in from Shimane to identify the body. Joe..." Ken sighed, filling the line with static. "There will be an investigation, and someone will be around to question you."

"It's not like I haven't dealt with the cops before..." Joe breathed. But never like this – never as a suspect.

"You should be fine," Ken whispered, and Joe was sure he wasn't supposed to say that. "You've done nothing suspicious, and we can have you alibied by the messages you left on her phone. Just don't let it get to you."

"Y... Yeah... Thanks, Ken..."

He turned off the phone in his hands, almost dropping it to the floor as he collapsed. The hall light above him flickered, slowly, almost comfortingly.

"What am I going to tell Aiko...?" he breathed, asking the empty hallway that surrounded him.

* * *

Joe could barely focus the rest of his day. He stayed away from patients as much as he could, withdrawing himself into his backlog of paperwork. The only things that ran through his mind were thoughts of Nana, of the sweet young woman who he would never see again. The mother of his child who would never hold Aiko again. The leader of a coven that did more shopping than spells. The Head Nurse of a clinic that would never benefit from her experience and care anymore.

Despite his shaking hands, his handwriting was perfect – a habit from his father's rule he'd never been able to break. He had hoped it would have distracted him, made him focus on something else, but the only thing it had done was pass the time. He could feel his phone vibrating, but it only made him think of Aiko.

How was he going to tell the boy his mother was dead? That she had been murdered? Should he tell Aiko that? Or would it only serve to frighten him, send him deep into himself?

He glanced at his clock, a replacement for his old one that never stopped flashing 1:13, and sat back. His shift was reaching the end and he only just remembered that he had allowed Tomaru another chance. He picked up his phone and texted, unsure of his own voice.

" _I have to cancel tonight. Dinner tomorrow?"_

The reply was instantaneous.

" _You promised. Or are you a liar?"_

Joe sighed. _"I never called you a liar. I have an emergency."_

" _What if I have an emergency tomorrow? We're doing it tonight."_

Anything Joe texted back after that was ignored. He removed his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. Tomaru's insistence was completely out of hand, and he had no idea what to do.

Brad was down the hall as Joe left, but the blue haired doctor ignored his friend and fled to the elevator, unsure if Tomaru was able to see him or not. If things went well tonight, hopefully he could break things off peacefully.

Tomaru wasn't waiting for him in the lobby like usual, instead sitting in his car, parked next to Joe's. He didn't even look up as Joe approached, didn't watch as Joe climbed into his own car. He only pulled out behind the man, following him close behind. For a moment, Joe wondered what would happen if he led Tomaru away, just drove until his car ran out of gas and then got out and ran after that.

Aiko would be left alone, Joe knew. And Tomaru would never give up his pursuit.

So Joe put the code in the gate and drove to his building. He parked in his spot and Tomaru parked next to him in the handicap area. He was tempted to run for it, to take off to one of his neighbor's doors and demand help, but Tomaru reached out and took Joe's hand in his, squeezing it tight enough to pop his knuckles.

"Are you ready?" Tomaru asked, sweetness dripping from his every word. "Don't worry, Joe, dinner will be wonderful and special and you'll know I love you."

Joe swallowed hard and nodded. That light in Tomaru's eyes was terrifying, and it was only growing brighter.

Joe couldn't take his hand from Tomaru's, even to unlock his door, and it had long since stopped tingling. Now he couldn't feel his fingers at all. Tomaru dragged Joe inside, pushing him onto the couch, almost taking Joe's arm off with the death-grip still on his hand.

"Now you just stay here, and I'll -"

Joe looked up, wondering why Tomaru had stopped speaking. Aiko had emerged from his bedroom, stopping short at the sight of his father and another man.

"Dad...?" Aiko whispered, and Tomaru mirrored the shape of the word with his lips, no noise coming forth.

Tomaru's grip had slackened with shock, and Joe used the opportunity to break free. He hurried across the room, not only to put as much space between him and Tomaru as possible, but to place a reassuring, numb hand on Aiko's head.

"Tomaru, this is my son. His name is Aiko."

It was as though Tomaru was broken. He didn't move, he didn't make a sound, he looked like he wasn't breathing either. The only motion he was making were his eyes, flickering back and forth, flashing over and over as he tried to process the information. Aiko huddled close into Joe, this strange man making him uncomfortable.

"Tomaru?" Joe called softly. He was worried, but not enough to go over to the man.

Finally, Tomaru blinked, and he sagged into a relaxed, warm position.

"It was just a... a shock, really." Tomaru gave that grin that Joe had once loved and now feared. "You know what? I actually forgot the groceries I bought down in my car. I'll be right back."

When Tomaru closed the door behind him, Joe wanted desperately to lock all the bolts. But he just knelt down, wondering how to tell his son.

"Aiko, I..." Joe took a breath. "I got a call from Detective Ichijouji this afternoon..."

"He came by today," Aiko admitted softly. "He told me that Mommy was... dead."

Joe bit his lip. "Did he say anything else?"

Aiko shrugged, wrapping his arms around Joe's shoulders. "He said you were going to come home and take care of me. And not to be scared because you would protect me." He nuzzled against Joe's cheek and whispered, "But I am scared. Of that man..."

"Don't worry about Tomaru," Joe promised. "I won't let him hurt _you_. And after this, he'll be gone."

Aiko nodded, and Joe knew he would have to end it, no matter what Tomaru did. Without Nana to come back, Aiko was his and only his to care for.

"Aiko, listen to me. Tomaru is going to come back up here, and I'm going to tell him something. I don't know how he's going to react, so I want you to go to your room and _stay there_. No matter what you hear, do you understand?"

"Yes, Dad..."

The doorknob rattled and Joe flinched. "Go, Aiko."

The boy scampered off, and Joe sighed his relief when he heard the door shut. He sat back on his heels as a heavy hand fell on his shoulder.

"What are you doing over here, Joe?" Tomaru asked, nails digging into Joe's shoulder painfully. "I thought I put you on the couch."

Joe squirmed, already feeling the bruises forming. "I had to tell Aiko something."

"I'm _trying_ to be in a good mood, Joe," Tomaru growled. "I put you on the couch because I _wanted_ you to stay on the couch."

"Tomaru, that hurts," Joe said, trying to keep his voice even. "I warned you – don't make me throw you out."

There was a terrifying moment where it seemed Tomaru hadn't heard him. His fingers tightened, and his eyes flashed. But then he released, stepping back. He looked at his hand as he flexed feeling back into it. Joe watched him warily as he blinked once, twice.

Then he broke into a smile, as warm and soft as though nothing had happened. "Just... sit on the couch for me, _please_ , and I'll start dinner." Without a second glance, Tomaru turned and walked to the kitchen. "Fried rice, plain and simple, just like tonight will be."

Joe reached up to rub his shoulder. "I can show you where the pans are..."

There was a familiar crash of glass as Tomaru threw a plate, shattering it on the floor. "Goddamnit, Joe! I know how a fucking kitchen is set up! Shit!" Tomaru flew back into the living room and threw his arms around Joe. "I'm sorry – I didn't mean to yell! I promise, no more! No more yelling!"

"Just. Go." Joe growled. He meant for the man to leave, but Tomaru just went back to the kitchen. He wanted to yell, to throw him out, but he just sat on the couch. Anything to make this night end faster so he could take care of Aiko.

"It's only a few more minutes," Tomaru called, barely loud enough to be heard.

"So soon?" Joe asked. "Didn't you just start?"

There was a pause, and a soft whisper, "One... Two..." Then Tomaru laughed. "You caught me. I'm not the best cook, but I can heat up a frozen dinner like a five-star chef." A bit more crashing and clanging, much more quiet and gentle this time. Tomaru was finding plates with more ease than Joe had his first day in the apartment. "So... were you ever going to tell me about Aiko?"

"I didn't know how permanent the arrangement would be," Joe said. He debated telling Tomaru about Nana, but ultimately decided against it. This would be their last night, he didn't need to know anything personal. Not anymore. "I didn't feel like it was pertinent to our relationship."

"...Three... Four... You have a son. How is that not 'pertinent'?"

"Tomaru..." Joe shook his head, glad Aiko was safe in another room. "Let's just enjoy dinner."

"Yeah, sure." A hissed curse. "Where are your Goddamn chopsticks?" A sigh. "I didn't yell that!"

"I didn't hear anything," Joe lied. It was easier.

Tomaru emerged with two plates and a wide grin. "I found them! Now, let's have a nice, normal meal. Between two adults, with nothing bad happening." He sat at the dining table, waving Joe over. "Come on, come on. It'll get cold."

For a moment, Joe considered just getting up and running. Of escaping like he'd never had the chance to with Shou. But he couldn't leave Aiko alone. So he walked over to the table where Tomaru was bouncing in his chair like an excited child.

"I should have brought candles," Tomaru muttered to himself. "Or flowers, or something. But I guess I can't go back in time and change things, now can I?" He laughed, in as good a mood as Joe had ever seen him. "Go ahead – it's perfect."

It did look good. Invitingly warm and brown, it smelled delicious. And yet, there was something off about it. Joe picked up his chopsticks, gently playing with the rice for a moment. He could see the vegetables, like bright lights speckled throughout.

"I thought you said it was plain," Joe said.

Tomaru put a chopstick to his lip. "It's just peas and carrots and shit. All fried rice has that. Go on – it's _delicious_."

Joe eyed Tomaru suspiciously. The man was smiling, but there was a curious tug at the corner of his mouth. Something sparkling in his eyes that Joe hadn't seen before. But, Joe figured, the sooner they ate, the sooner this would all be done with. So he took a bite, an odd taste filling his mouth.

"I was thinking," Tomaru was saying. He still hadn't began eating. "About our first date – you remember that little diner? Where my parents dated?"

Joe nodded. He wrinkled his nose and ran his tongue over his teeth. Something odd was happening.

"You told me something interesting." Tomaru leaned in close. "Do you remember what you said? Because I remember every word you ever said to me. I keep it close to my heart because there's nothing about you I don't want to know."

"I didn't..." Joe coughed. "I didn't say anything..." He pushed away his plate. "I don't feel well..."

Tomaru leaned across the table. "Look, I understand why you became a doctor. It's because you want to save people. I wanted to become a doctor, too, but they said I couldn't." He watched as Joe rubbed his throat. "They said it wasn't about being a hero."

"It's... It's not..." Joe was beginning to wheeze, but it didn't feel like asthma.

"Yes it _is_ ," Tomaru insisted. "It's about becoming a God to someone – you save their life and they'll _worship_ you."

"I... I don't... want... w-worship..." Joe grabbed his napkin and spit into it, trying to dislodge whatever was surely stuck in his throat. "What did... you do...?"

Tomaru stood and walked around to Joe, standing over him. "If I save _you_ then you'll worship _me_. Like I do you."

"S-save...?"

Then Joe remembered. The shrimp.

He stood, shoving Tomaru as had as he could out of the way. He had an epi-pen in the kitchen, stashed in his junk drawer. He could feel his throat and tongue beginning to swell and he stumbled, breathing becoming labored. Tomaru was still talking as he almost fell in the kitchen, digging desperately in the drawer.

"You don't understand, do you? I _love_ you, Joe. But you don't seem to love me as much. I'm only doing this for us – because once I save you, you can forget about everything that isn't me."

The medication was in Joe's hand, but it was light. He shook the pen, but there was nothing inside. But that was impossible – Joe had never had to use this pen!

Tomaru took it from his hand and Joe sunk to the floor. "These pens... They go off so easily as soon as you stab anything. But don't worry – I have epinephrine in my car." He knelt next to Joe and smiled that terrifying smile. "And since it's _mine_ you'll always know who saved you. I'm... I'm like _your_ doctor, Joe – your God. I'll be the one to save you."

"No!" Joe gasped. He reached out, fingers reaching desperately. Tomaru took the hand in his, bringing it to his face and nuzzling against it.

"See...? I've been on your mind now for weeks, and soon I'll be the only thing you can think of! You won't have to worry about Brad, or Midori, or even Aiko! Just me. Only me..."

Joe felt Tomaru kiss his fingertips and he lashed out. He grabbed the soft, squishy flesh in his nails and squeezed. Tomaru cried out, trying to jerk away, but Joe held fast to his lips. With a gasping, wheezing breath, Joe fumbled over his words. "Out... Get... Out! Never... Never again...!"

Tomaru elbowed Joe in the side of the head, falling backwards as he was let go. He held a hand over his bloody mouth and glared at Joe as he writhed on the floor.

"Joe, you -!" Tomaru licked the blood from his lips, that terrifying light coming back into his eyes. "I understand, now. But, Joe, if I call an ambulance, then it'll be the EMTs who save you. No, it has to be _my_ glory. And if it's not mine, then it can't be anyone's." He leaned over, kissing Joe deeply, the doctor unable to taste the blood as his throat began to swell shut. "Goodbye, Joe. I know you'll think of me for eternity as the last person you ever spoke to."

Joe's vision was darkening, and he twitched on the floor. Tomaru was gone, suddenly, and Joe wasn't sure if he'd left or had simply vanished. A thought passed through his mind, clear as a bell against the panicked screaming he couldn't let out.

_Tomaru's right. I'll become a ghost, and always know he'd the one who made me one..._

Joe closed his eyes, letting himself drift away. Maybe if he died peacefully, he would be spared the agony of remaining on Earth forever. He willed himself to be calm, to let go of any regrets. Anything he could do to just let himself end, like he should have so long ago.

A sharp prick of pain in his thigh made him twitch, and he heard, from thousands of miles away, a tiny voice.

"-ergic reaction. I found an epi-pen in the bathroom – please hurry!"

There was a mild relief, and Joe felt himself mouth the name, "Aiko...?"

"You can't die, Dad," Aiko was sobbing, no longer speaking with the emergency dispatch. "I need you – I don't have Mommy anymore!"

Joe's hand was still and slick with Tomaru's blood as Aiko grabbed it, crying into his palm. "Dad, you can't leave me alone..."


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Minor OCs deaths. Semi-graphic.

_Just call me angel of the morning, Angel_

_Just touch my cheek before you lave me, darlin'_

* * *

2020

Joe was in the hospital for a few days, Aiko at his side the whole time. Ken came by, asked a few questions, but Joe shook his head. He had been the one to bring such a dangerous person into his life, he was the one who had to deal with it.

"Police are here for a reason," Ken told him. Then he sighed. "If anything happens, come to the station and ask for me. I'll help you."

Then he laid a sad hand on Aiko's head. "We're still looking for the person who hurt your mom. We won't stop looking until we find him."

Aiko smiled, but he didn't seem reassured.

When Joe was released, the first thing he did, even before going to his apartment, was talk to his landlord about changing the locks. Aiko was hiding in his side, trying not to show his fear, as they walked inside. There was so sign of anyone inside, but Joe opened every door and looked in every room – even inside the closets and cabinets, as silly as that seemed. He didn't bother with dinner, the stench of the rotted rice still on the dining table filling the whole apartment, and Aiko didn't leave his side. Joe locked all the doors and windows, he closed his bedroom door and locked it behind him, and Aiko curled up on his bed, falling asleep quickly while Joe...

Joe stayed up all night, holding Aiko close, and jumping at every last noise and praying that Tomaru would stay away.

The next day, Aiko cried all morning, clinging to Joe. He didn't want the man to leave, not even for work, and Joe hated having to pry away those tiny arms. He hated having to reassure his son, over and over again, that he was coming home, that he wasn't going to end up like his mother.

"I promise," Joe said. "My shift ends at midnight. I'll call the moment I get off, ok? Stay home, and stay safe, and don't answer the door for _anyone_ , ok?"

Aiko just cried more as he was tucked into Joe's bed, clinging to Sesame Seed until he fell asleep.

When Joe arrived at the JFCR, looking over his shoulder more than he looked in front of him, he was terrified to go to his office. He stood outside it for the longest time, the light in the hall flickering gently. His hands shook, and he considered just running back downstairs, hiding in the ER until his shift was over. But Ken had told him not to let fear take over, to not let Tomaru win.

There was an arrangement on his desk, like usual. Deep red blossoms that filled the whole space with the once-wonderful stench of roses. There was a card at the base of the vase, one just like the multitudes sitting in his drawer.

The fear was still there, but it vanished quickly under sudden fury. He grabbed the card and, without bothering to open it, ripped it in half. He threw it in the trash, not thinking before running around his desk to pull open the drawer and toss all the other ones he'd accumulated. He grabbed the flowers and dumped them in the hallway trashcan with an angry flourish.

"Looks like you're feeling better."

Joe jumped and spun around so fast he fell back against the wall. Brad was standing down the hall, a gentle smile on his lips.

"Hey, hey, it's ok, Joe." Brad approached and Joe sighed in relief. "You look like you saw a ghost. It sure feels like I'm seeing one."

"Brad, I... I'm sorry..." Joe shook his head. He glanced at the roses and made a face at them. "It's just my boyfriend – _ex-_ boyfriend, now - he... he didn't like me talking to other people. But we're over. Completely over with."

"Good for you," Brad said with a nod. "It's like I haven't seen you in a year, not just a couple weeks. Welcome back."

Joe smiled, feeling calm and relieved for the first time in a long time. "Glad to be back."

* * *

He did the best he could to keep his hands from shaking all day, tried to act as though he wasn't terrified of every unknown person who walked behind him. Despite knowing he had to be strong, to not let himself be taken over by a fear he was all too used to, he spent the day hiding in the ER. He kept himself busy with minor surgeries and basic consults, taking care of patients he knew by symptom, not by name. He even found himself taking his lunch with Jiro, apologizing for something he couldn't remember doing just so he wouldn't be alone in the cafeteria.

At five till midnight, his phone began glowing like a beacon, Aiko calling over and over to make sure Joe was all right. Each call was answered quickly and reassuringly and as soon as he hung up, Aiko was calling again. Despite how tired the boy was, he was determined to have contact with his father until the man was safely in their apartment with every lock bolted shut.

Joe almost had a heart attack walking to his car when a flash of red passed him by. But it wasn't a sports car, just the oncology department head's new truck, washed and polished until it shone like a cherry. He gave a small wave, ignoring the driver's odd look and rushed into his own car, not feeling safe until he was flying down the street, a good fifteen miles over the speed limit.

When he got home, Joe took up the Welcome mat, tossing it just inside his door as Aiko wrapped himself around the man's waist. He had stopped crying that morning, but the absolute despair had yet to leave him any room to feel.

"Have you eaten?" Joe asked quietly as his own stomach rumbled.

Aiko fought back a yawn and shook his head. "I tried, but I threw up..."

"Me too," Joe admitted. He remembered Jiro's look when he had to run to the bathroom that afternoon, his lunch able to sit on the stress accumulating within him. "Why don't you make us some toast? I think we can handle that right about now."

Aiko looked unsure, but Joe tried to smile. Tried to reassure like he always had when he was young. He needed to make sure his son was safe – it was the only way _he_ could handle everything.

The toast stayed down, just barely and with a lot of heaving from Joe, and the two once more curled up in the same bed, the door locked, and the only reason they slept at all was because they couldn't keep their eyes open.

The next day, there was another arrangement on his desk. Another card propped up next to it.

And again, Joe took the flowers and tossed it in the trash, ripping up the card without even opening it.

So it continued on, just like that. Summer vacation ended quickly and Aiko began third grade, leaving Joe content with the knowledge that at least his son would be safe for eight hours a day. The boy, already so smart, found comfort in the structure that was provided for him and, while shy and scared, he remained at the top of his class.

Each morning, Joe made Aiko breakfast and helped him with his last minute studying that kept them both preoccupied. He drove the boy to his elementary and dropped him off, waiting in his car and watching until Aiko was safely inside the school's doors. Every red car that passed him on the way to the hospital made him jump, and he got two tickets in a month for speeding, trying to escape someone who had been driving in the opposite direction.

Every day, there was another arrangement waiting on his desk, each one more grand and beautiful than the last. A new card placed at the base of the vase, mocking him with how easy it apparently was to break into his locked office. And every day, Joe ripped the card to shreds, tossing it into his trash. He carted the flowers to the dumpster out back each time, relishing in the sound of the glass shattering every morning. He always went to the hospital director afterward, trying to get new locks on his office door, or even trying to move offices all together.

"We don't have any empty offices," the old man would say. "It would be a hassle to move everyone around whenever someone has a breakup. Besides, don't think I haven't heard of _your_ exploits in the nurse pool in oncology."

_But I never stalked anyone I slept with_ , Joe would think. But he would just bow and apologize, and tell the director he would do his best to separate his personal and professional lives.

He stayed in the ER as much as he could, hiding among faceless patients, once again designated by symptom and not by name. He avoided his floor, returning only when he was paged and for only as long as he was required. He knew Tomaru knew the layout up there, but the bustle of a busy ER would confuse him and keep him away.

Cody, the youngest and most reserved of all the Children, had married a beautiful young woman named Layn, their ceremony small and almost overlooked. Just the way they liked it. He'd met her when he'd first begun college and married her after passing his bar exam, taking the long years to prefect a relationship into something that both needed. For Cody: a bright personality who appreciated every day and every life, and for Layn: a stoic rock that could be gentle when life became overwhelming. Cody quickly found work as a defense attorney and Layn took over her family's floral shop mostly as a way to pass the time.

It was enough to remind Joe of Shinjiro and Nana, they way the two doted on each other in ways only they understood. They had a daughter, a young thing named Tomoyo who was three years younger than Aiko, and the few times doctors and lawyers crossed paths, Joe did his best to catch up with the man.

So Joe hoped it wasn't improper of him to call Cody up, and ask the man to look after Aiko whenever he got out of school. The lawyer agreed so stoically, so coldly, that Layn had to steal the phone and laughingly explain that was just the way he was, and that they would be happy to have Aiko around until Joe got off work.

Aiko was nervous the first day, and Joe had to take off work early so he could spend time with Cody and Layn, to show Aiko that his old friends were ones to be trusted. Tomoyo, a bundle of energy at four, asked the boy a million questions, only being quieted when Layn gave her a small camera.

"The girl's going to make movies one day," Layn told Aiko with a warm wink as she showed him how to appease the child whenever she became too rambunctious. "And she'd going to make us all stars, I swear."

Joe ended up taking his lunches later and later in the day, putting off his breaks so that he could skip eating and spend the whole time on the phone with Aiko when he got out of school until he was picked up by Layn. Once the young mother reassured Joe that his son was safe, the doctor would finally allow himself to relax and attempt to eat.

He lost a lot of weight over the weeks, throwing up most of what he ate as stress tore his insides apart. The daily gifts of roses were doing nothing more than agitating what he was sure was becoming an ulcer, and he wanted nothing more than to take his son and run away, as far from Koto as he could, until Tomaru couldn't find him ever again. But he knew he couldn't take his son away from whatever normalcy he had found after his mother's murder.

"Detective Ichijouji said you should call him," Aiko said one day. He was picking at his dinner, only eating because he knew his father wasn't.

"About what?" Joe asked, not expecting an answer of his seven year old. He tapped his finger on his empty plate, having not even bothered to fill it. "I don't even know for sure Tomaru _is_ watching us. The police can't go after a feeling – they need evidence."

Aiko just pouted, nibbling at his rice grain by grain until Joe decided they were done pretending to eat.

"Get ready for bed," Joe told the boy with a gentle smile. He tried his best to keep his own worries from interfering with Aiko's life, to keep from troubling the child any more than he needed to be. "I'll be there to tuck you in."

It had taken weeks before Aiko stopped sleeping in Joe's bed. The only thing that calmed the boy's nerves was installing a chain latch on the inside of his door and plugging in a motion-sensing nightlight. Even then, most nights Joe found himself with a young boy having crawled into his bed in the middle of the night, crying in his sleep.

But Aiko nodded, clearing his plate like he always did, and steeling himself for another night of terrifying dreams that were slowly becoming reality. His father watched, hating himself like he always did for putting the boy in so precarious a position, and as the night dragged on, he read Aiko a bedtime story – something light and warm, not inviting in the evils of the world they were now accustomed to.

"I miss reading Hamlet," Aiko murmured into Sesame Seed's dingy fur, eyes heavy. He knew he would only wake in a few hours from a nightmare, but for now he was content in his own bed. "I'm tired of Dr. Seuss..."

Joe just leaned over and kissed Aiko on the top of the head, brushing back his bangs. How he would have loved to go back to the plays, to enthrall his child with the tale of the Dane and his family horrors, but he didn't think that would be very appropriate.

"Soon," Joe promised. "Once we can both make it through the night at least _once..."_

He closed Aiko's door behind him, leaning against his with a heavy sigh. He could feel a sob building in his chest, tightening his lungs like an asthma attack, and he hurried to his own room before he could cry out and alarm his son. The boy was slowly beginning to process things, to get used to the way things were, and Joe didn't need to break that perilous hold on sanity Aiko was building. Joe sobbed into his pillow, not even removing his glasses first, arms wrapped around it like it was his only lifeline in the world. He tried to stay quiet, he tried to stop. He told himself over and over that if Aiko heard him, everything would fall apart again.

He sobbed until there was nothing left in him. He cried until his lungs ached and his eyes were dry. He threw the soaked pillow to the floor and fell back on his bed, wishing more than anything that his mind would just shut down and he would be able to black out for the night. He stared at his ceiling through wet, grimy lenses and waited for the dark nothingness of dreamless sleep to take him.

Only for his phone to buzz.

Joe looked at it warily. He'd long since blocked Tomaru's number, but he always wondered if the man would finally change phones – call from somewhere else again and again. But when he looked at the screen and read the name, he snatched it off the side table and answered it before he could find his voice.

"H-Hello?" came the other voice. The same voice he loved to hear, the one scarred by years of nicotine and rage.

"Matt..." Joe breathed. "Matt, what are you...?"

"I'm sorry it's so late," the other man said. Whispered, really. Like he was crouched somewhere, hiding. "I didn't wake you did I? You sound like shit."

"No, no, I -" Joe coughed and cleared the despair from his throat. "You just surprised me, is all. I haven't talked to you in..." How old was Aiko now? "In so long..."

"Yeah, Sora's got me under lock and chain nowadays," Matt laughed. Then coughed. There was the sound of plastic crumpling and then an annoyed groan. "Damnit, I promised I'd quit..."

"Matt, why?" Joe breathed. "Why did you...?" Call him? After dropping off the face of the planet for seven years, what made him suddenly reach out?

"Well I _have_ been smoking since I was fourteen – don't tell my dad, he thought I started when I was seventeen – and I thought you'd be the first to tell me how dangerous smoking was." There was a shuffling noise on the other end as Joe continued to sit in stunned silence. "Damnit, I wish Sora's mother had bought a more comfortable couch..." Then the click of the lighter and a contented sigh. "I can always re-quit tomorrow. So, how have you been?"

"You, I just... uh..." Joe sputtered. He could barely process the words, much less come up with his own. He wanted to demand of Matt the truth, to be told everything from the day they were eleven including why he left and why he was calling now. Instead, he just said, "I'm fine. Just... fine."

"I'm glad, I really am." There was a pause, another drag. "Hey, Joe? I -"

"What's going on?" came another sleepy voice, tiny and thin through the speaker.

"Shit!" Matt hissed and there was a jumble of static. Then he spoke again, muffled and barely able to be understood. "It's nothing, Sora. Go back to sleep."

"What are you doing out here?" Sora's voice was almost completely distorted. "Come back to bed, Matt."

"I'll be there in a minute," Matt snapped.

"You said you quit last week, are you lying to me _again_? And you know I don't like it when I don't know where you are."

"For fuck's sake, Sora, I -" Matt took a deep breath and continued far too calmly, "Sora, I'll be in bed in a minute. Let me finish my cigarette first."

"Whatever."

And then Matt was back with a strained happiness. "Sorry. Sora gets snippy when I talk to anyone. You should hear her bitch when I call my dad. Look, Joe, I... I didn't mean to call up out of the blue. I should go and let you sleep."

"Matt?" Joe called, so soft he could barely hear himself.

"Yes, Joe?"

"I... I'm really glad you did call. I missed you." More than anything, he missed the man.

"I'll call you again," Matt promised. "Unless you don't want me to. I'd understand if you didn't."

"I _do_ want you to!" Joe yelped. Then he worried Aiko would wake up and whispered, "I'm sorry. I, uh, I'm glad we can talk... ish."

"Yeah, 'ish'," Matt laughed. "I'm sure you heard the great dragon – I need to go back. I'll call you later, ok?" And with a click he was gone.

Joe hesitated before he set the phone back down. He finally took off his glasses and lay back on his lack of pillow. He closed his eyes and sighed. That night, his mind didn't race with fear, he didn't jump at every noise. Instead, he wrapped himself in the warmth of Matt's voice and the comfort of a love that might have once been.

* * *

"I swear," Joe sobbed. "I swear he was right behind me."

"It's ok," Brad called from the other side of the door.

It had been a few weeks since the phone call. There had only been one more, late enough at night to wake Joe from his fitful sleep. But he didn't mind, listening to the hushed, idle chatter that Matt had always used to cover up his true worries. It was enough to get him through, and Aiko could sense it, playing more with Tomoyo when he was at the Hida's, and no longer fearing every shadow. Even the daily floral arrangements had stopped showing up, and Joe was elated that Tomaru had finally moved on.

But that day, as Joe was called out of his office, he felt the familiar goosebumps that told him he was being watched. He looked around, but not even a janitor was there. So he pulled his coat closer to him and tried not to look like he was running toward the elevator.

He lost the gaze in the surgical ward, removing a brain tumor with ease despite his trembling hands. He had cleaned up and removed his smock, determined to get some lunch and call Aiko to see how the boy was doing.

But it came back. He looked over his shoulders constantly, running into a few nurses on his way to the cafeteria. He skipped the elevator so he could run down the stairs and when he emerged, he saw him.

Black hair curled around blue eyes that were glaring directly into his soul.

It made Joe's stomach churn violently and he ducked into a supply closet before he could throw up. He shoved an EKG machine in front of the door and hid in the shadows, covering his head and crying into his knees. He knew it was pathetic, how ridiculous it must have looked. So when Brad knocked on the closet door, calling his name softly, Joe felt guilt overwhelm him.

"Come on out, Joe," Brad said for the third time. "He's not here. Hell, from what I've heard, he hasn't been to work in months. If he _has_ shown up, it's only been to pick up his last check."

"Because he's always behind _me_!" Joe yelped. "For the longest time I thought it was nothing, but I know it now!"

"Can't you go to the police?" Brad asked and Joe kicked the EKG machine in a rage.

"For what? He hasn't _done_ anything!"

"There has to be a law against stalking," Brad tried. "Don't you have a cop friend who can help you out?"

"I, I dunno..." Joe breathed. "I don't think I should bother him with my problems."

"'Bother him'? This is his _job_ – what if Tomaru goes after Aiko next? You _have_ to!"

"Aiko..." Tomaru had seemed so uninterested in the boy, that Joe hadn't even thought that something might happen to him. He wiped his eyes on his coat sleeves and moved the machine away from the door. He didn't look at Brad as he emerged, embarrassed to be seen in such a state. "I'll go to the station when I get off work..."

Brad tried not to make a face. It wasn't what he wanted to hear, but it was close.

* * *

It was Aiko's second time in the police station, and he still wasn't used to the hustle and bustle. Each phone that rang, each shout from a person in handcuffs all made him jump. He was holding Joe's hand tightly, getting squeezed back comfortingly. He looked around, trying to find the familiar man with long blue hair that had always been so nice to him.

"Excuse me," Joe asked an older officer sitting at a desk, nameplate in front of him reading Ryuzaki. "Is Detective Ichijouji here?"

The man eyed him with a tired look. His hair was graying, and the creases around his eyes and mouth deepened as he sighed. "He's out right now. Did you need help?"

Joe pulled Aiko close, putting a hand on the boy's head as much to comfort him as himself. Ken had said to ask for him, but certainly any police officer would be able to help. "I... I need to file a stalking report."

Ryuzaki waved the pair to sit at his desk, leaning over to smile gently at Aiko. "It's ok, son. Just tell me all about who's bothering you."

"A-actually," Joe said with a blush as Aiko shrunk away, still looking around for Ken or Natalie. " _I'm_ the one being followed. It's my ex-boyfriend, I'm seeing him everywhere."

"I... see..." Ryuzaki paused for a moment too long, and Joe realized that he _should_ have waited for Ken to come back. The officer sat back in his chair with a lazy stretch. "Look, I don't know how _those types_ of relationships work, but I'm sure it's nothing. Men are supposed to be persistent, aren't they? That's how... _this_ happened, didn't it?" Ryuzaki waved his hand to encompass Joe as a "this". "Just give him some time to back off."

"It's been _months_!" Joe yelped. "I haven't been able to sleep, my son has nightmares, and -"

"Look," Ruyzaki said, digging in his desk to find a file that he quickly hid behind. "Has your ex... friend... hurt you since you 'broke up'?" Joe shook his head, biting his lip to keep frustrated tears from escaping. "Well, then it's not really a police matter, now is it?"

"Isn't there anything you can do?" Joe pleaded.

"Look here, I've got _murders_ to investigate," Ryuzaki snapped, throwing the folder down. Joe quickly turned Aiko away from the bloody photos that spilled out. "Ok? Rapes, assaults – _real_ crimes. Be a man and take care of your own problems. Don't teach the boy here how to be a sissy."

"That's not fair!" Aiko cried out, trying to escape Joe's side where he'd been buried. "Detective Ichijouji said that you could help my dad!"

"When I see him, I'll let him know you stopped by," Ryuzaki said with a roll of his eyes. "Now, do you have a _real_ crime you need to report?"

"Thank you for your time," Joe mumbled as he stood. Aiko tried to turn to the officer, to berate like his mother would have, but Joe hushed him as they left the station. "He's right. This is _my_ fault, and I dragged you into it."

"Dad..." Aiko sniffled and Joe set his hand on his head, brushing back his bangs.

"I'll take care of it. I _promise_."

Neither of them truly believed it.

* * *

The first time after visiting the police that Joe saw a red sports car behind him, he almost crashed. He'd been driving to Cody's house on the other end of Odaiba to pick up Aiko, when it had turned behind him. He hadn't noticed, at first, but the flash of color behind him made him freeze, grip the steering wheel so tightly that his hands ached for hours afterward. He pulled over quickly, acting as though he was about to get out at what he later realized was a closed bookstore, only for the other car to drive harmlessly past him.

But that didn't stop Joe from shaking, from wrapping his arms around himself and just _breathing_. He didn't realize how long he'd been there, how much he'd been crying, until his phone rang, Aiko asking worriedly if he was ok.

"I'm fine," he comforted, though he knew Aiko could hear the sob in his voice. "I just had to stop for a minute. I'm on my way, though."

Cody didn't ask when Joe came by, the man would never pry. But Layn was a different matter.

"Are you ok?" she asked, the moment he pulled into their driveway. Tomoyo was sitting on her hip, Hello Kitty video camera shoved in her mother's ear. "Aiko was very upset, and he wouldn't tell me."

"It's ok," Joe told her as Aiko ran from the front door. He shoved past Layn as politely as possible and threw himself into his father's side, shuddering with sobs.

"That doesn't look 'ok' to me," Layn grumbled.

"Aiko's sad," Tomoyo agreed. She held out her precious camera to the boy, hoping to comfort her older friend. "Don't be sad..."

"We'll make it," Joe reassured. Aiko shook his head sullenly at Tomoyo's offering and she snatched it back happily. "I can't thank you enough for watching Aiko."

"He keeps Tomoyo out of my hair at the store," Layn said with a small smile. As much as she loved Aiko, she didn't feel it her place to demand answers from the tired man. "So, you know, keep him safe for me. I'll need my favorite babysitter for a while longer."

"Thanks," Joe murmured as he helped Aiko get buckled. "I appreciate everything you've been doing for us, Layn."

"Don't say it like that's the last thing I'm going to hear out of you," Layn tried to joke.

But Joe just waved, pulling out of the driveway and back onto the street.

"Are you ok, Dad?" the boy asked, watching his father constantly glancing in his mirrors. "... Dad?"

"I thought..." Joe bit his lip. He didn't want to worry Aiko, but he didn't want to keep the boy in the dark. Not if it meant there was a possibility he could be hurt. "I thought I saw him earlier. On my way to get you."

"It wasn't, was it?" Aiko pleaded.

"No," Joe said firmly. "No, I..." _Don't think it was..._ Joe swallowed hard and knew the only thing that would make them feel safe again. "When we get home, I'll have the landlord change our locks again."

That night, before falling into bed, he dug in the depths of his closet. An old, almost rotted bag was buried in the back, "Mikami Canyon Summer Camp" still embroidered on the edge of the flap. The scent of the Digital World clung to the fabric, and he grabbed the treasure still within.

He put the pocket knife in his pants, knowing he would never have the courage to use it. It was old and probably completely rusted closed, but its mere presence was comforting.

* * *

Aiko's grades began falling after that. Joe tried to tell the teachers that the boy just needed adjustment. That he was still distraught over the death of his mother. Some teachers understood, told him that they could schedule meetings with the school counselor. Some just told him that he needed to reign in his son, that such potential shouldn't be allowed to go to waste. Those were the classes that Aiko worked hardest in even though Joe told him to blow them off.

"If I'm nicest to the ones that don't like me," Aiko explained as he worked on his extra credit work one night, "then they'll be the most impressed."

"Just don't make your whole life about school, ok?" Joe pleaded. He still had nightmares about his own father.

"But I like school," Aiko insisted. "It's fun, and I feel safe there."

"Make sure you take a break," Joe told him.

But as long as Aiko was happy, Joe was happy. And he tried to follow his son's example. Work became his lifeline, his only saving grace. He stuck close to Brad as he did his rounds, made sure that his office was empty every time he entered. The flowers were still coming, but now the petals drooped, the leaves falling in a giant mess everywhere. There were no more cards, but Joe began to notice that his books were getting rearranged, the items on his desk moved around.

"Tomaru's never messed with my stuff before," Joe told Brad as the pair inspected every last inch of the office as part of their daily ritual. "And all these flowers are... dead."

"Maybe he's just getting cheap," Brad offered. "It could be a sign he's getting tired of all this."

"I hope so," Joe sighed, sitting in his chair after inspecting it for tacks or needles. He'd been watching a lot of cop shows in the break room lately, and he wasn't sure it was helping his paranoia. "I'll be glad when he decides I'm not worth it anymore."

"That can't come soon enough." Brad looked at his watch. "Don't you have a surgery scheduled?"

"Yeah, a little girl with a brain tumor." Joe opened his desk. The little, rusty seal he usually had stashed inside was missing. "Her parents were terrified of her dying on the table, but we finally convinced them this was for the better. She'll be ready in about an hour." He looked around the floor, hoping it had just fallen out.

"Everything looks mostly in order here – no men hiding in the shadows at least." Brad gave a twisted smile as Joe snorted. "I'm heading back down to the ER then. See you at lunch?"

"Only if Jiro decides not to talk my ear off again." Joe sighed and swiveled around in his chair. "Remind me why I decided to make up with him, again?"

"Because you're a nervous wreck who needs someone to keep an eye on him."

"That's right..." Still no sign of his seal. Now that he was talking to Matt again, it felt wrong to not have it with him. "Get going, then, and I'll weasel out of eating with Jiro somehow."

And then Brad was gone, leaving him alone – gloriously alone – in his office. Joe spared a glance to the dead roses that had been dumped in his trash and sighed wearily. Hopefully, he thought as he stood, Brad was right, and this would be the end of all of it.

The parents were still in their daughter's room, doting on the child even as Joe approached. The girl, a seven year old named Nanako Masami, gave a scared smile.

"I'm Dr. Kido," Joe introduced himself. "I'm the head surgeon at this hospital, and I wanted to reassure you that Nanako is in very good hands."

"I know we already signed the release," the mother said, holding her daughter's hand tightly. "But I'm still worried. My brother, he died during surgery, you know."

"I remember you telling me, but I still insist that you let Nanako go through with this. Once we get the tumor out, and she goes through Chemo, Nanako will be a perfectly happy little girl." Joe smiled at the girl, and she looked to her mother. "Don't you want to go out and play with your friends again?"

"I want to, Mommy," Nanako urged. "I miss Negima and Toni..."

The mother wiped her eyes and nodded. "I understand. You be good for Mommy, ok, sweetie?And once you're out, we'll be right there waiting for you."

"I love you."

"We love you too, sweetheart."

Joe smiled at the tender display. "The nurses will be here in just a moment to prep Nanako. There's a cafeteria on the first floor, if you think you can eat something."

"No," the father said as his wife collapsed into him, shaking. "We can wait."

Joe smiled and stepped out of the room as Jiro walked in, an assuring smile on his face. The tall man took a breath to steady himself as he made his way to the surgical floor. He had to control the shaking in his hands as he scrubbed down. Removing a tumor from the brain stem was incredibly dangerous, as any wrong move and he would destroy her body's ability to breathe and regulate her heartbeat.

_It'll be fine_ , he told himself. _I've done operations like this hundreds of times, nothing is going to go wrong._

Jiro was already there, holding Nanako's hand as she was anesthetized, falling into a deep sleep. "Are you ready, doctor?"

It really was nice to have Jiro off his back. To not have that little snarky glare every time he asked for an instrument. To have such soothing conversation instead of the bitter attitude he was used to.

The surgery progressed wonderfully, and Joe was thankful the years of med school had dulled his nausea at the sight of blood. His hands didn't shake at all as he cut into Nanako's young brain, finding the mass that was pressing against her skull and causing her partial paralysis. He smiled behind his mask as he gently scraped away the tumor, knowing every precise flick of the scalpel was making her life longer and better.

"We're almost done," Joe announced, smiling behind his mask. There was only a small section left, clinging desperately to the terrifyingly important white stem. He raised his scalpel and took a calming breath.

"Hey, Joe," Jiro asked suddenly, and Joe wanted to curse. Didn't the man realize how important it was for him to focus? "Did you send the parents down to eat?"

"I offered," Joe murmured, focusing on the last few cuts. "They said they would wait."

"Huh. I guess that's the dad out there, then."

Joe flicked his eyes up, spying just over the rim of his glasses. The man standing just outside the door could have been Nanako's father. He was tall with dark hair and... blue... eyes...

Joe grit his teeth as the figure leaned in close, leering through the small window. It was Tomaru! It had to be!

"No," Joe whispered to himself, low enough that Jiro couldn't hear him. "It can't be..."

"Did you say something?" Jiro asked, concerned. Joe was sweating suddenly, hands trembling.

"N... Nothing!" Joe screwed his eyes shut tightly. He took a shuddering breath and peeked through his glasses after a moment. Tomaru was gone, but the damage was done. Joe's shaking was getting uncontrollable, the bile rising in his throat. He couldn't leave Nanako like this, there was noone else around to finish the removal!

"Doctor?" Jiro pressed. "What's the matter?"

"I'm fine," Joe gasped. All the nurses were looking amongst themselves, worried about their surgeon. "I'm _fine_. I just need to finish Nanako's operation. Then she can go back to playing with Negima and Tori..." He grabbed his wrist with his other hand, steadying the scalpel in his bloody glove. "Just a little more..."

"Be _careful_ ," Jiro warned, watching the blade descend into an open skull.

The sharp edge scraped against the brain stem, every eye on the monitors hooked into the seven year old. Joe breathed out, exhaling as slowly as he slid the scalpel. The tumor was coming clean, and his every thought was of Nanako, happily enjoying the rest of her long life. Of going to school and meeting her friends again, of debating between high schools and jobs. Fighting with her parents over the person she would date and eventually marry.

Of how horribly that could go. Of blue eyes that would watch her everywhere she went. Of a love so strong that it turned into obsession.

"BP's falling!" Jiro yelped and Joe blinked into reality. Blood was pouring over his hands, making his gloves too slippery to hold the scalpel. Nanako's tiny body was beginning to jerk. "She's flatlining!"

Joe stared blankly, unable to understand what was happening. Nurses rushed around, shoving him out of the way when he refused to move. There was the shrill shriek of the EKG machine, a zap and a thump.

"She's not coming back," someone said. "Try her again!"

Another zap and a thump.

"Godamnit, Joe!" Jiro was yelling as they zapped Nanako again. "What the hell happened?!"

"I... I..." Joe looked to the window, where Tomaru had been standing. Watching. "I was trying to..."

"You cut into her brain stem!" Jiro accused. "She can't beat her own heart because of you!"

"But I, I couldn't..." Had Tomaru even been there? Now he had no idea if what he'd seen had been the man or only a shadow of his own mind. "I didn't mean to..."

"Get out of the way!" Jiro snarled, shoving Joe aside. He grabbed an airbag, forcing Nanako's lungs to breathe as she could no longer command them to on her own. Joe stumbled backwards, almost collapsing against the far wall, looking to his bloody gloves. He could hear the commotion around him, but he couldn't even begin to process it. He had the scalpel in his fingers, he was doing so well...

He slid down, collapsing into himself as he listened to Jiro shout orders. He should have had Brad come in, called Midori to watch, had _anyone_ else come in to make sure he didn't freak out like he always did. And now, because of his own inability to do anything properly, a little girl had died at his own hand.

"Get up," Jiro said after almost an hour. He kicked Joe in the side harshly, ignoring the tears flowing down the stunned man's face. "We need a _doctor_ to call her."

"C... Call?" Joe looked up as Jiro rolled his eyes. He shook his head, listening to the steady hum of a flat line. "Nanako...?" He sat up, smearing the child's blood on the wall as he stood. "Time of death is... 18:43..."

"Thanks," Jiro spat, turning away in disgust. He'd never been so upset with the doctor, not even when they'd gone out. He looked to the nurses, telling them, "Let's get her cleaned up and to the morgue. _Dr. Kido_ can go inform the parents of what happened."

* * *

Joe's face was red long after his shift ended. The pain throbbing in his cheek from Nanako's mother slapping him hurt worse than being pulled into the director's office as he was clocking out.

"It's soon," the director said solemnly, sitting behind his desk as Joe stood awkwardly. "But the mother of the young girl you lost today, Temari Masami, has already informed us that she's called her lawyer. We know you're an asset to the JFCR, but a Nurse... Jiro Hasano has told us that you've been distracted lately. We should have done this sooner, but until this is all straightened out, I'm afraid we have no choice. Dr. Kido, you're hereby suspended until further notice." He blinked, looking up from his computer screen for the first time. "Make sure you take care of that bruise on your cheek."

" _Take care of that. I don't need anyone asking questions."_

"Yes, sir," Joe mumbled to the director, to his father, as he bowed deeply. He wished he'd just been fired, anything to make the guilt weighing down on him lessen. Nanako wasn't the first patent he'd lost, but she was the youngest, and the first because of his own inability to control his personal life. If he'd only been able to get rid of Tomaru sooner... "I assume you'll keep in touch?"

"The hospital attorney will contact you with any further information."

Joe could see Brad waiting for him, but he hurried past. Jiro was back at the nurse's station, once more ignoring the man as he passed by. He almost wished Tomaru would be waiting in the parking garage for him, waiting to... do what exactly? Poison him again? Chase him down until he collapsed from exhaustion?

With no one waiting at his car, Joe punched the hood as hard as he could, screaming as all his knuckles popped.

"You son of a bitch, Tomaru!" Joe cried, collapsing into the dent he made. "What the hell is all this for...?"

The phone in his pocket vibrated, clicking eerily against his old pocketknife. He reached in with a trembling hand, seeing the blood that still stained the wrist of his shirt. It was Aiko, calling to make sure Joe was still coming to get him.

"I'll be there," Joe promised, voice echoing in the garage. "I just got held up a little by the director. I promise, I'm on my way."

The child's voice was shaking, and Joe suddenly couldn't blame him. He was just as terrified of every shadow, of every twitch all around him. He climbed slowly into his car, after checking the back seat and even the trunk. Even now, he couldn't be sure he'd seen Tomaru in that window. The man had been fired months ago for abandoning his job – he hadn't been seen around the hospital in forever! So why would he come back that day? How would he know where to find Joe? And why would he show up, only to do nothing but look?

Even Cody looked concerned as Joe pulled up. Layn invited them in for tea, but Joe shook his head. "I have to tell Aiko something, and I need to be home to do it."

Aiko looked ready to cry at those words, and Joe couldn't even reach out to comfort the boy. He just helped him buckle in, like always, and waved goodbye to Layn and Tomoyo as they watched him drive away.

"Is... Is it about Mommy?" Aiko asked softly as they drove.

"No." Joe shook his head. "I wish there was something about her. But, today..." Joe bit his lip, wondering how to tell his son he'd killed a little girl because of a fear he should have never let into his life in the first place. "Today I did something bad. And I might lose my job over it."

"What happened?" Aiko pressed. They passed through the gate of their complex.

"There was a little girl, your age, and she came in very sick. I was supposed to help her, but I..." Joe parked and took a shuddering breath. "I made a mistake and her mother is, well, she... I've been suspended. I might not be able to go back to the JFCR after this."

"It's ok, Dad," Aiko said. "It's because of him, isn't it?"

Joe paused. Then he nodded. It wouldn't do to hide it from Aiko. "He was there, I know he was. And I... I don't think he's going away. I'm sorry that I dragged you into this..."

"I'm not," Aiko said softly and Joe looked over at him. The boy was looking to his hands, a scared smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "I don't like Tomaru, but with Mommy gone, I'm glad I got to be with you."

Joe reached out, pulling Aiko close and hugging him tightly. The boy was trembling, shaking like a leaf in his father's embrace. "I'll keep you safe," Joe promised. "I told Nana I would."

"Thanks, Dad," Aiko sniffled. He clung tighter for a moment as Joe pulled away, finally letting go of the man's shirt.

"They should have finished changing the locks by now," Joe said as he helped his son out of his seat. "I'll grab the new keys, and we can go home get some rest."

Aiko lingered in the lobby, watching as the manager gave Joe his fifth set of keys in as many weeks. He hated the way the woman glared behind the desk, telling Joe sternly, "We can't keep changing the locks every other day. This needs to get under control."

"I understand," Joe grumbled. He just wished he knew _how_ to get Tomaru under control. "I'll do my best."

Aiko held his father's hand the whole way up to their apartment, knowing Joe needed the comfort. Joe fidgeted with the new keys in his pocket, feeling the folded up knife clinking against them. It was a reassuring weight, even if he had no idea why it was there. He knew he would never have the courage to do anything with it.

_I'll just put it away. Put it in a drawer, or something._

"Dad, what's that?"

Joe blinked, pulling his hand away from the pocketknife. Aiko had stopped walking and was pointing to their door. There was a small binder propped up next to the frame and an oddly familiar pile of rusty clock parts scattered on the floor. Joe swallowed hard, motioning for the boy to stay put as he steeled his own nerves. He dragged his feet as he approached, telling himself that it was nothing. A package for a neighbor left at his door, surely.

The tiny flipper of a mechanical seal crunched under his foot, the familiar part no longer attached to what used to be its carefully constructed body. Joe reached out and took the binder, opening to reveal its true purpose as a photo album.

Filled with nothing but pictures of him.

The first pages were most recent, images of him at lunch with Jiro. Walking the hallways with Brad. Even showing Mirodi around the recently refurnished children's ward. And the further the pages went back, so did the pictures. Not quite halfway through, he recognized it as the first day Tomaru had approached him. And before that...

There were pictures of him while he was still in med school. From before he'd been kicked out of his father's house! Joe's hands were shaking as he flipped the pages, looking at himself from behind windows, through tree branches, across crowds. His face circled in thick red marker, every other person blacked out, scratched through, cut away. Even his copy of Aiko's sonogram had been graffitied, ripped apart and scribbled over in angry Sharpie.

And the last page, the very last image in the whole, twisted album, was his copy of the Chosen Children's last day in the Digital World, gathered in Primary Village as the whole world around them came back to life. Each face had been meticulously destroyed, through scratching, cutting, and marker – even those of the Digimon at their sides. The only one left untouched was his own, a single shocked expression amidst a sea of horror.

Joe felt his stomach churn and he dropped the terrifying album to his feet with a crash. This was more than just an upset boyfriend. This was more than just a man who wanted to get back together. This was a monster who had followed him for years, building up to the exact persona Joe would have fallen for.

The man shrunk away from his apartment. He wanted to run away but knew he couldn't. After all this time, after all this effort, Tomaru would never just give up. He would follow Joe until one or both of them were dead. He swallowed hard and grabbed Aiko's shoulders harshly, whispering to the boy, "Take my cell phone and go to the lobby. Call the police – tell them to get here as soon as they can, do you understand?"

"What about you, Dad?" Aiko whimpered. He had seen the binder, but he didn't know its contents. Only the look of increasing horror that flashed across his father's face.

"I'm going to end this. Somehow, gods help me, I'm going to end this." And with that, Joe turned his son around and shoved him back toward the elevator. Hopefully, whatever happened, the boy would be safe.

Joe took a deep breath, trying to calm frazzled nerves. His hands trembled as he moved his key to the lock, only just noticing the old bronze that didn't match his new silver. Tomaru must have found a way to get one of his old locks placed back in. And he'd left it open, Joe discovered as he twisted the knob. His heart was racing, and he fought back the impending asthma attack.

Tomaru was sitting on his couch in the living room, rubbing one eye like a sleepy child.

"Oh, Joe, hello," he greeted, as though it was expected of an ex to be camped out in a once-locked apartment. He moved his hand to fiddle with something in his lap, blinking up at Joe with one blue eye and one brown. "These contacts are hell on my eyes."

"What are you doing here?" Joe demanded. He wasn't at all surprised that the man had changed his physical appearance to tempt Joe.

"Waiting for you, of course," Tomaru laughed. He looked around, the double color of his eyes disconcerting. "Is Aiko around? I wanted him to be here for this too."

"F-For what?" Joe cursed himself for stuttering as Tomaru's grin widened, the scars on his lips stretching his flesh terrifyingly. The man knew he had Joe frightened, and he was enjoying it.

"For our wedding, dummy." Tomaru opened his contact case and with disgusting ease, pulled his eyelid up and out and slid the blue film into place. He blinked a few times and grabbed the papers on the coffee table. "I've been watching you lately, and I think our problem is that we're not spending enough time together."

Joe closed the door behind him softly, leaving it cracked just enough that anyone could burst in.

"You've just been so busy with work, you know? And you never take vacation, even though I _told_ you to, so I thought this would be the easiest way to keep you home."

"So I _did_ see you," Joe murmured and Tomaru snickered.

"Of course you did. It's so easy to get past that slut Jiro without my contacts in and my hair unbrushed – he never once noticed me walk in front of his face. I did have to find _some_ way to get you all those flowers, after all."

Tomaru frowned suddenly, wagging his finger at Joe who had slunk his way to the living room. "And I saw what you did to all of them – those were very expensive arrangements by the way. But don't worry, after what you did to Nanako, the JFCR won't let you back in. Who wants a butterfingers surgeon anyway, right? And then I can make you my little house husband like you were always meant to be and you'll learn the value of _my_ yen."

"And if I don't want to be your husband?"

Tomaru threw his head back and laughed. He laughed so hard he shook and almost fell off the couch. "What _you_ want? Damnit, Joe, don't you know that what you want _is_ what I want?" He grinned dreamily, whispering to himself. "To own a god... How perfect it will be..."

"I won't let you own me," Joe said as simply as he could.

"Of course you will," Tomaru said absently, waving his hand. "And once I get rid of Aiko, you won't have anyone left to give all that attention to, so I'll be the only one left for you to love."

"Leave Aiko alone," Joe growled, and Tomaru finally looked over at him with those fake blue eyes. "I won't let you touch him!"

"You will if I tell you to," Tomaru said simply. When Joe didn't back down, he finally frowned, a dark look crossing his face. "Oh, you're serious, aren't you?" He stood, toweringly tall, and Joe shrunk back as thoughts of his father flashed before his eyes. Tomaru raised one hand, clenched into a fist, and snarled, "I'm going to have to teach you how to behave, won't I?"

Joe flinched, reaching into his pocket. The knife was quickly in his hands, blade sliding out with ease.

"What the fuck is that?" Tomaru laughed, sneering at the pathetic weapon. Joe swallowed hard and held it up, grasping it firmly in both fists. "What are you gonna do, poke me? Put that _down_."

The tone was so familiar, so ingrained into Joe's very being, that he almost did what he was told. He lowered the blade with shaking hands and cast his eyes to the floor.

_Maybe_ , he thought desperately, _if I just do what he says, he'll leave Aiko alone. Maybe this is the only thing I can do with my life. He's right, after all. The hospital won't take me back after how I fucked up with Nanako, and no one else will hire me either..._

The pocketknife fell and Tomaru tsked angrily. "You were really going to use that, weren't you?" Joe nodded hesitantly. "Come here. _Now_."

Joe's feet refused to move and Tomaru approached with an irritated sigh. He reached out, taking Joe's cheek in his hand. "You're a fucking dumbass, you realize?" Tomaru hissed with a gentle caress. "But, I understand now that you've been on your own for too long – you're too independent. I can't have that in a husband. So let's begin retraining you."

The hand suddenly wrapped around Joe's throat and the tall man gagged. He reached out to clutch at Tomaru's arm, but he just squeezed tighter. Joe jerked back, but Tomaru's grip was too firm. His body was weak, so constantly stressed combined with being unable to eat anything, and he was ready to give up completely.

"Or maybe," Tomaru was saying, using his other hand to add too much pressure. "You're just too set in your ways. Maybe I _should_ keep Aiko around – he's young enough to mold into what I want..."

_Aiko...?_

"That sounds good. I think once I'm done with you here, I'll go visit your friend Cody and pick him up. How long will it take for me to convince him that Aiko needs to go with me, hm? Then I just have the little brat cut off all contact, and he's all mine, just like _you_ were _supposed_ to be."

"N... No..." Joe gasped. He could feel his throat being crushed, just like once long before. "Not... Not Aiko..."

"Like you're going to give a shit in a minute," Tomaru spat. He shook Joe and tossed him to the floor. "Now you just stay still and play _dead_ , got it? I think I'll take your car – it'll be easier to pull up to their house, that way."

The dark haired man leaned down, reaching out to rummage through Joe's pockets. The doctor's chest was heaving, trying to keep from blacking out, and he grabbed the closest thing, lashing out.

Tomaru yelped at the pocketknife sliced into his thigh and he jumped back. Blood splashed on the carpet and he snarled, "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Joe rubbed his throat, holding up the tiny blade. He couldn't see right, and his arm was swaying, but he knew he had to. He pulled himself to his feet, and growled hoarsely "St... Stay away from Aiko..."

"Get out of my goddamn way!" Tomaru pulled his fist back, screaming, "I'll kill you first!"

There was a spray of wet, hot, stickiness, and Joe felt the knife slip from his grip. Tomaru blinked at Joe, then at the gaping hole in his stomach that was spewing blood freely. His mouth gaped, the pain not quite reaching him and he sat back on the couch heavily as the front door flew open.

"Police! Everyone down!"

Joe's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, fading away to Ken's horrified voice crying out, "Joe! Damnit, I told you to come to me first!"


	16. Chapter 16

  _Just call me angel of the morning, Angel_

_Just touch my cheek before you lave me, darlin'_

_\- Angel of the Morning, by Juice Newton_

* * *

2025

Natalie had been the one to hold Aiko back in the hallway as officers swarmed their apartment. Tomaru's body was cooling quickly, and Joe was fading in and out as Ken stood over him, trying not to step in the blood.

"Joe!" Ken demanded. "Joe, tell me what happened!"

"Aiko..." Joe had only managed to mutter. "Is Aiko... safe?"

He had woken up a few days later in the hospital under a ventilator, forcing his abused body to breathe. Ken and Cody were both there, waiting for him to wake up. The office told Joe he was under arrest for Tomaru's death and as much as Cody pleaded for him to stay silent as the tube was removed from his throat, Joe whispered, "Had to protect Aiko..."

The boy himself had been taken and almost placed into foster care had Nana's mother not shown up, moving into a motel near by.

"I can take him in," she'd said upon hearing that Joe's custody was being temporarily suspended. "I don't want him with a bunch of strangers when he has family around."

Joe was certain he was going to go to jail, and he almost confessed to Ken that he'd _meant_ to murder the man until Cody secretly clicked his morphine button to the max it would go.

"Just stay calm," Ken told him. "We're talking to everyone at the hospital who saw anything – we'll get this all figured out. Why didn't you come to me like I told you to?"

Joe told Ken that he'd tried, only to find out that Officer Ryuzaki had retired the next day, long before Ken had returned from his case. Never once had the old man mentioned Joe's complaints – he hadn't even written down that they'd visited the station!

"I thought no one cared..." Joe said, his voice slowly returning to normal. "Like usual..."

"Believe me," Cody said softly. "We care."

Talking with Brad and Jiro, and going all the way to the hospital directors, it was discovered that Tomaru wasn't even a doctor. He had been kicked out of nursing school for wanting to perform surgeries he was completely unqualified to even assist in, and had stolen his missing roommate's credentials to get hired at the JFCR. The hospital quickly denied knowledge of the falsified information, claiming that as soon as Joe was better, he could come back to his old job.

It was Aiko, however, that was Joe's saving grace. When asked about where the pocketknife had come from, he told the police, "Dad always had it in the living room. He used it as a letter opener, _really_." Then he'd cried, like he'd done the whole investigation. "He's the only parent I have, ever since Mommy was murdered. Don't take him away..."

Ken, with plenty of assistance from Cody, made a mutual plea for the investigation, claiming the death had been, "Self-defense, obviously." Tomaru had been without any close family, and the matter was left at that.

A social worker had been by afterward, keeping up with Aiko to make sure the boy was as safe as he could be. The carpet and couch were quickly replaced, but the stench of blood lingered well on over the months, though Joe was careful not let on how ill he felt during inspections. Nana's mother became Aiko's babysitter for a few weeks, taking him to school and therapy as Joe tried to get back into the long hours at the hospital. It was difficult for all of them, but slowly, things returned to normal.

As Aiko aged, he became his usual, independent self again. Dr. Seuss books were not only thrown away, but ripped apart and colored all over much to the father and son's delight. The scent of roses took a while to stop triggering nightmares, and the first time they both slept through the night, they threw themselves a party.

Custody was returned and Nana's mother retreated back to the slow-paced life of Shimane. "I was glad to see my grandson again, but next time, try not to make it so urgent that I need to move."

It was a few years before Joe could bring himself to date again, and only then because of Aiko's instance. "I don't want you to be lonely because of me. I'm doing my best to get over it, why don't you?"

But Joe couldn't bring himself to say it. That it wasn't Aiko, but his own inability to do anything right that scared him. What if he ended up in a situation like with Tomaru again? How would he be able to live with himself if he brought any more harm to his child than he already had.

One day, when he came home, Aiko rushed him into the shower, shouting over the water, "Grandma found you a blind date, Dad. You can't _only_ hang out with Brad at work."

"A-Aiko!" Joe had yelped, "Where did _she_ find me a date?"

But his son had just told him impatiently, "Hurry up or you're going to be late."

The first date had been a disaster – it was with a woman. Joe had tried to make it work, told himself that maybe a change like that would lead to better decisions. But she had been too interested, and it had terrified him into giving her a false number and telling Aiko when he came home, " _I'm_ choosing the next one."

At first, Aiko was excited to see his father doing something so normal. He encouraged Joe's dates, and even bought him a schedule book to make sure he kept up with them. But the doctor fell quickly into his old habits of nurses and love hotels. He told himself that he wasn't still waiting for the impossible, but the only comfort he could find was in the calls that came in the dead of night from a man too long taken from him.

A chance meeting in the cemetery during _Ohigan_ had rekindled his friendships with Tai and Izzy, the two men now fathers of twins: a girl, Jaciru, and a boy, Nakayama. Tai's cane and Izzy's glasses hadn't come as too much of a shock, as Tai was still prone to injuring himself in ridiculous ways and Izzy was always one to work late into the night on his computer while forgetting to turn on at least one lamp. Joe knew of a bar just down the street from the hospital, one he'd visited often during his investigation, and thought it would be the perfect place to play catch up with the other Children.

One visit turned into two, and then another a few weeks after. It slowly worked into a kind of monthly schedule. One or more of the Children would end up at the bar and slowly, like moths to a flame, more would show up to drink and reminisce late into the morning. One day, Kari had surprised Joe with a reprint of the photo Tomaru had destroyed, framed in sturdy silver plastic. Joe had been sure to leave early that night to hang it up before Tai could get drunk and break it.

"Kids are resilient," Izzy was saying as Tai reached across their table and whacked Davis with his cane over some dumb joke. "Jaci and Kaya managed perfectly well after Tai's accident."

"Aiko _did_ do well in therapy," Joe agreed, sipping at his fruity concoction that would leave him warm but not drunk. "His last session was a few weeks ago, and I can't believe how happy he's been lately."

Davis took another shot and Tai sipped at his drink that would have been easier to serve still in its bottle instead of wasting a glass.

"It's getting late," the second generation leader said with a yawn. "Daimu has another v-pet competition tomorrow afternoon, and I don't want to deal with all those nerds on top of a hangover."

"Yeah," Tai agreed. "Bug's semi-finals match is tomorrow night, so she's going to be up at the crack of dawn, bouncing all over the damn place." The man reached for his cane and readied himself to begin the process of standing when he looked up at the doorway. "Hey, look – it's Matt."

Joe coughed as his drink tried to lodge itself in his nose, Izzy patting his back reassuringly as Tai waved his cane in the air, screaming at the top of his lungs, "Matt! Hey, Matt! Oiii, _Yamato!"_

The man in the doorway looked more like a stray cat than any friend the Children had once known, shifting nervously from foot to foot and ready to bolt at a moment's notice. His long, rockstar hair had been cut reasonably, almost professionally, and he was dressed in a plain, light blue jumpsuit, name embroidered in white thread. When he reached up to brush away what remained of his bangs, faded scars were present, almost like he'd gotten in a fight with a window pane and lost.

Matt looked rather uncomfortable with Tai screaming across the almost empty bar, and Joe was certain their waitress, usually a sweet young thing, was getting ready to throw them out. But the blonde took a hesitant step forward, and Tai ordered another round for all of them. Izzy reached out, pulling a chair between him and Joe for Matt to sit at while Tai jabbered away, acting as though his friend's sudden appearance was a daily occurrence.

Matt sat between his friends, looking all at once like he would rather be anywhere else than at a tiny little bar with friends he'd cut off years ago and at the same time that he would rather die than leave his seat. And Joe...

Joe fought to keep himself from blushing at every glance. Tried to keep the alcohol from making him reach out and take Matt's injured hand. He was glad that Tai and Davis were taking the conversation, leading it anywhere but where Joe wanted it.

And when that morning ended, after Joe met Hanako and Tsukuyomi, who loved and worried about their father, Joe collapsed in his bed. He wrapped his arms around his pillow and sighed, breathing deep the scent he would never know.

"Matt... I love you..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, I just wanted to give Ruunkur an extra special thank you for their kind review~ ♥♥♥  
> I'm so glad you stuck through with this series up until the end, and I hope you'll stay with it as it keeps going~  
> To be fair, this is a Matt-centric headcannon, but I really really wanted to show how ALL the Children have changed in the 30-ish years this HC spans. And I'm so happy you were willing to sit through so much Joe lol


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